t    I 


'^cz.cL   ^i5i>^qo 


SEP   14  1992 


SEP   14  1992 


TH.E 


PORTFOLIO 


ENTERTAINMENT  AND  INSTRUCTION. 


COMPILED  BY  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  BOARD. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

peesbyt;^rian  board  op  publication, 

No.  2C5   CHESTNUT  STREET. 


Entered,  aceorJing  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1855,  hy 

A.  W.  MITCHELL,    M.D., 

in  the  Clerk*s  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 

BTEEEOTTPED  BY  J.  FAOAN,  PHILADELP.JU. 


ADVEETISEMENT. 


We  present  to  our  readers  a  pleasant  miscellany,  compiled  for  their 
instruction  and  amusement,  and  adorned  'witli  engravings  exhibiting  no 
ordinary  artistic  skill.  It  is  hoped  that  it  will  be  found  an  agreeable 
treat,  suitable  not  only  for  one  season  of  the  year,  but  for  every  season  — 
not  only  for  one  class  of  readers,  but  for  all.  While  its  mechanical  execu- 
tion renders  it  an  ornament  for  the  centre -table,  its  varied  contents, 
combining  history,  biography.  Scripture  illustration,  poetry,  and  moral 
and  religious  teachings,  give  it  a  peculiar  adaptation  for  family  reading 
in  a  -ffinter  evening.     The  young  will  find  they  have  not  been  neglected. 

We  must  acknowledge  our  great  obligations,  in  preparing  this  volume,  to 
a  periodical  publication  of  the  London  Religious  Tract  Society,  entitled, 
"The  Sunday  at  Home." 

If  it  should  be  found  that  any  of  the  articles  in  this  volume  are  originally 
from  the  pens  of  American  authors,  our  apology  for  not  giving  due  credit 
must  be,  that  they  appear  in  the  above  volume  without  any  indication  of 
their  original  source. 

The  Editor  of  the  Board. 
(3) 


CONTENTS, 


The  Bible  Colporteur,  or  the  fruit  found  after  manj'  days 7 

Let  not  our  Spirits  droop.  —  Poetry 11 

Footsteps  of  Paul  in  Italy 1- 

That  Land.  —  Poetry 21 

The  Danger  of  Delay -- 

Sale  of  Joseph  by  his  Bretliron 23 

Joseph  in  Prison 27 

The  two  Fountains.  —  Poetry 32 

The  Fig-tree  37 

Lessons  by  the  Seaside 42 

The  Mummy  Wheat.  —  Podry 48 

Glimpses  of  the  Pil;;rim  Fathers 51 

Communion  with  the  Dead.  —  Poetry 57 

Piety  upon  a  Throne 59 

St.  Paul  loosing  from  Troas.  —  Poetry C4 

The  Lingerer 70 

The  Dying  Soldier.  — PocC^v/ 73 

The  Little  Mendicant '74 

The  Reformation  —  Luther's  ninety-five  Theses  nailed  to  the  Church  door 70 

The  Contented  Man.  —  Poetry 82 

The  Leadings  of  Divine  Providence 83 

The  Soul-lit  Eye.  —  Poetry 80 

Claude  Brousson 87 

A  Name  in  the  Sand.  •—  Poetry 02 

The  Death  Sccna.  — Poetry 03 

The  Lost  Bells 94 

The  Last  Night  in  this  World ;  or,  the  Wreck  of  the  Pegasus 97 

(5) 


6  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


The  Sabbath  made  for  Uan— Poetry 106 

Frederick  II.  and  Ziethen 108 

The  Missionary  Pedler  of  the  Vaudois 113 

The  Shepherd  Lad. 117 

Best  —  Poclri/ 1-- 

"  AVatching  for  the  Morning." 124 

The  Palm  Tree 133 

The  Lost  Son  Found 134 

The  Transformed  Island 140 

The  Uninvited  Guest,  and  the  Two  Debtors 102 

The  Lord  hath  need  of  thee  —  Poetry 107 

Illustrations  of  Self-conquest 108 

The  Shipwrecli 172 

The  Swearer  Rebuked  by  a  Child 176 

The  Children's  Walk 179 

August  Hermann  Franoke 184 

An  Incident  from  Real  Life 191 

The  Christian  Race  —  Poetry 195 

Christianity  in  the  Hour  of  Danger 196 

A  Sunday  at  Nazareth 203 

Smyrna  and  its  Martyr 208 

The  Sunday  Bower 214 

Lost  but  Found 218 

John  Jaenicke,  Pastor  of  the  Bethlehems  Church,  Berlin 224 

The  Swollen  River;  or,  the  Escape  of  a  Huguenot  Family 236 

Anecdotes  of  Dr.  Judson 253 


PORTFOLIO 


ENTERTAINMENT  AND   INSTRUCTION. 


fk  §il)Ie  (tolprtcur,  or  the  ^(niit  foniib  "after  m\\\)  ga; 


T  was  evening  again  —  a  smnmer's  evening;  and  a 
stranger,  invited  perhaps  by  the  open  door  of  a  neat  and 
comfortable  cottage,  paused,  and  then  entered.  An  aged 
female  sat  b}^  the  window,  employed  in  spinning.  Marks 
of  sorrow  might  be  traced  on  her  features ;  and 
poverty  was  to  be  seen  in  somewhat  painful  contrast 
with  a  few  relics  of  former  prosperity.  It  was  not  poverty',  however, 
that  caused  the  present  sorrow.  On  a  couch  in  the  apartment  lay  a 
young  man,  emaciated  by  long  illness,  slowly  but  surely  sinking  in 
hopeless  decline.  He  was  the  onl}-  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  was  a 
widow. 

The  stranger  looked  around  him  as  he  stepped  over  the  threshold, 
and  comprehended  at  a  glance  the  principal  features  of  the  scene. 

"The  Lord  be  gracious  to  you,"  he  said,  speaking  kindl}',  and  respect- 
fully saluting  the  aged  woman ;  "  and  may  all  your  troubles  work 
together  for  good  to  you,"  he  added. 

In  a  moment,  the  look  of  grief  on  the  countenance  of  the  widow  was 
exchanged  for  a  bright  smile  of  joy;  and  the  invalid  raised  himself  from 
his  pillow. 

(7) 


8  ?  0  11  T  F  0  L  I  0     OF     E  N  T  E  K  T  A  I  N  JI  E  N  T 

"Enter,  enter,"  he  said,  in  a  feeble  voice  of  pleasure;  "if  you  love 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  you  are  welcome ;  0,  how  welcome !" 

"And  do  you  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ?"  asked  the  stranger,  as  he 
approached  the  bedside. 

A  happy  smile  played  on  the  invalid's  lips  as  he  reached  out  his  thin, 
nerveless  hand,  and  pressed  that  of  the  unknown  visitor.  "  '  We  love 
him,'  he  said,  'because  he  first  loved  us.'  " 

"Happy  are  they  who  know  that  of  a  truth,"  rejoined  the  stranger, 
whose  countenance  showed  his  glad  surprise ;  "  I  knew  not  that  I  should 
find  ill  this  benighted  village,  a  brother  and  sister  in  Christ.  How  comes 
this  to  pass?" 

The  young  man  laid  his  hand  on  a  Bible  by  his  bedside.  The  motion 
was  expressive ;  no  words  were  needed. 

Meanwhile  the  aged  woman  had  risen,  and  had  spread  a  table  for  the 
refreshment  of  the  stranger.  "  It  is  but  a  crust,  and  a  cup  of  water," 
she  said;  "but  welcome  to  it,  in  His  name;  for  you,  too,  love  our 
Lord!" 

"I  do,  indeed,"  he  replied,  "and  as  a  disciple  I  receive  with  gladness 
and  love  what  is  given  in  the  name  of  a  disciple.  And  has  it  been 
always  thus  with  you  ?" 

"Ah  no,  no,"  said  the  woman  ;  "  time  was,  and  not  long  ago,  that  I 
was  ignorant  of  Christ's  righteousness,  and  went  about  to  establish  my 
own ;  for  I  knew  nothing  of  the  blessed  book  which  priests  try  to  keep 
from  us." 

"And  I,"  said  the  dying  man  —  "ah,  sir,  I  scoffed  at  all  religions,  and 
hated  the  book  of  which  I  knew  nothing." 

"And  may  I  ask,"  inquired  the  stranger,  "by  what  means  so  happy  a 
change  has  been  produced  ?" 

"I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  mother;  "it  was  three  years  ago  that  a 
poor  man,  a  Bible  colporteur,  came  into  our  village,  and  could  find  no 
resting-place  —  for  all  the  people  looked  upon  him  with  scorn.  Even 
at  the  inn,  he  was  refused  food  and  shelter.     My  husband  was  by,  and 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  9 

heard  it ;  and  though  ho  was  no  hctter  friend  to  the  Bihle  than  the  rest 
of  tlie  villagers,  God  put  it  in  his  heart,  sir,  to  pity  the  poor  traveller; 
and  he  brought  him  home.  Ah,  sir,  I  felt  very  angry  when  I  saw  who 
was  to  be  our  guest ;  but  poor  Pierre  would  not  have  me  abuse  him, 
though  I  grn(]god  every  mouthful  he  ate." 

"And  I,"  interposed  the  invalid,  "insulted  him  by  laughing  at  his 
religion,  and  showing  how  I  hated  the  Bible.  But  God  has  shown  me 
my  sin,  and  forgiven  mo ;  blessed  be  his  name  for  his  great  mercy  !" 

"The  poor  man,"  resumed  the  widow,  "seemed  greatly  distressed, 
and  after  he  went  to  bed  we  heard  him  in  prayer  for  our  poor  souls  ;  but 
this  only  made  me  more  angry,  for  I  did  not  want  a  heretic  to  pray  for 
me;  and  when  the  next  morning  camo,  I  was  glad  to  see  him  go  awaj-. 
I  thought  then  that  I  never  would  have  another  heretic  for  a  guest. 
But  poor  Pierre  was  more  kind;  he  would  not  take  anything  for  the 
night's  lodging,  only  the  man  would  leave  a  iSTew  Testament,  in  remem- 
brance of  his  visit.  Very  angry  I  was,  when  I  know  this.  And  I  was 
more  angry  and  frightened  still,  when  I  found  that  Antoine  liad  gone 
out  to  meet  the  colporteur  on  the  road,  and  had  bought  one  of  his 
Bibles." 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  the  invalid,  "when  I  was  wickedly  talking  against  the 
blessed  book,  the  evening  before,  the  man  turned  to  me,  and  asked  if  I 
had  ever  read  it  for  myself.  That  came  home  to  me,  sir;  fori  never 
had  opened  a  Bible,  and  oidy  spoke  of  it  from  what  I  had  heard  others 
say ;  and  they,  perhaps,  had  never  read  it  either.  So,  that  I  might 
not  have  to  confess  my  ignorance  another  time,  I  determined  to  have  a 
Bible  of  my  own." 

"It  was  the  Lord's  doing,"  observed  the  stranger,  thoughtfully.  "lie 
leads  the  blind  by  a  way  that  they  know  not." 

"You  may  say  that  truly,  sir,"  continued  the  woman.  "It  was  not 
long  after  tlie  colporteur  was  with  us,  that  my  poor  Pierre  was  taken  ill, 
and  had  to  keep  his  bed.  He  never  rose  from  it  again  ;  but,  by  God'a 
mercy,  he  was  not  taken  away  from  us  for  many  months.     He  wanted 


10  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

something  to  amuse  liira  while  he  lay;  and  one  day  he  told  me  to  get 
the  Testament  which  the  man  had  given  him.  lie  would  have  it,  sir; 
and  he  read  it  day  after  day,  till  he  became  so  interested  in  it,  that  from 
morning  to  night  the  book  was  in  liis  hands.  It  pleased  God,  sir,  to 
give  his  blessed  S[iirit  to  open  his  heart  to  the  truth  ;  and  at  last  he 
said  to  me,  'Margarette,  we  are  all  going  wrong;  the  priests  have  been 
taking  away  the  key  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  are  trying  to  keep  us 
out.' " 

"God  be  praised,  sir;  I  listened  to  m}'  husband's  words,  and  let  him 
read  to  me;  and  at  last  my  eyes  were  opened  too;  and  then  I  found 
how,  all  my  life,  I  had  been  trusting  to  an  arm  of  flesh,  and  was  looking 
to  be  saved  by  saints,  and  angels,  and  priests,  instead  of  b}-  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  alone.  Oh,  sir,  that  was  a  good  day  when  salvation  came 
to  our  house  !  And  then  we  thought  of  poor  Antoine ;  but  the  Lord 
was  merciful  to  us  there,  sir." 

"I  read  the  Bible  when  I  had  got  it,"  said  the  sick  man,  earnestly; 
"and  the  Lord  was  pleased  to  bring  down  my  proud  thoughts  and  high 
looks." 

"My  liusband  died,"  resumed  the  weeping  woman;  "and  his  last 
words  were  to  the  eifect  that  he  had  found  salvation,  and  was  going  to 
the  Saviour.     And  now,  poor  Antoine  is  ill " 

"lie  can  say  the  same,  mother,"  interposed  the  young  man ;  "I  shall 
not  be  with  you  much  longer,  dear  mother;  but  I  know  whom  I  have 
believed;  and  I  am  read}-  —  blessed  be  his  name  —  ready:  and  when  I 
am  gone,  Jesus  will  comfort  you." 

"He  will ;  he  does;  it  is  all  in  love  that  he  suffers  us  to  be  afflicted," 
replied  the  aged  mother. 

" '  Sorrowful,  yet  always  rejoicing !'  you  can  say  that,  then  ?"  inter- 
posed the  stranger. 

"  Oh,  yes,  for  do  we  not  know  that  'all  things  work  together  for  good 
to  them  that  love  God?'" 

The  traveller,  before  he  departed,  united  with  mother  and  son  in 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  11 

earnest  supplication  and  tlianksgiving,  ami  tlicn  went  his  way,  prohal)ly 
to  see  them  no  nidre.  But  ho  went  on  liis  wa}'  rejoicing,  for  he  had 
learnoJ  a  lesson  of  oncouragcnKMit  to  effort  in  the  service  of  his  Saviour, 
and  to  praj-er  for  those  influences  without  which  Paul  might  phxnt,  and 
Apollos  water,  in  vain. 

"lie   that   goeth  forth,   and  weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed,   shall 
doubtless  come  again  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 


f  ct  wat  our  .^'pirits  iiraoiJ. 

Let  not  our  spirits  droop  !    the  wintry  blast 
]]ut  lately  through   the  verdant  forests  passed; 
Each  tree  was  of  its  foliage  bereft, 
And  gloomy  skeletons  alone  were  left ; 
But  smiling  spring  soon  conieth,  to  restore 
Not  only  what  the  winter  lost  —  but  more. 

Let  not  our  spirits  droop!     The  frailest  flower 
That  lent  its  beauty  to  tlie  summer  bower, 
Tlien  vanished  from  the  earth,  and  left  no  trace. 
Yet  springs  again   in   its  appointed  place; 
Their  gloomy  season  is  but  for  a  while  — 
God  gives  the  word,  and  earth  again  will  smile. 

Let  not  our  spirits  droop  !     Insect  and  bird 
No  longer  in  their  joyful  songs  are  heard; 
But  their  sweet  melodies,  through  every  grove, 
Again  will  pour  out  gratitude  and  love; 
Wo  must  the  general  lot  of  nature  share  — 
Seasons  of  gloom  as  well  as  joy  to  bear. 


12  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  N  T  E  R  T  A  I  \  Jt  E  N  T 

Let  not  our  spirits  droop  !     The  same  high  Tower 
That  clothes  again  the  forcst-trce  and  flower, 
That  frees  the  fountain  from  its  icy  chain, 
And  wakes  the  melody  of  birds  again. 
Supports  us  also  through  the  hour  of  woe. 
And  in  fit  season  will  new  joys  bestow. 


footsteps  Df  paul  in  Italn. 

F  all  the  Listorical  associations  wliich  cluster  round 
•f^  so  many  spots  in  Ital}',  none  are  more  interesting 
to  the  Christian  mind  than  those  coimected  with  the 
apostle  Paul.  It  is  a  great  advantage  to  get  vivid 
ideas  of  facts:  and,  in  addition  to  many  of  a  classi- 
cal nature,  which  now  exist  for  us  as  they  never  did 
hefore,  we  have  recentl}-  gained,  in  a  visit  to  that  most  beautiful  penin- 
sula, a  freshness  of  impression  with  regard  to  Paul's  voyage  and  journey 
to  Rome,  such  as  we  would  fain  impart  to  our  readers,  with  the  hope  ■ 
that  it  will  increase  their  interest  in  reading  the  28th  chapter  of  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles. 

Looking  at  the  deep  hlue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  night  after 
night,  and  once  meeting  with  rough  weather,  how  real  the  story  of  his 
adventures  seemed  to  us.  There  he  suffered  shipwreck ;  there  neither 
sun  nor  stars  for  many  days  appeared.  \Yith  the  gospel  on  his  lips  and 
in  his  heart,  he  went  a  pi'isoner  to  stand  before  Ca?sar,  and,  conscious 
of  the  value  of  that  treasure,  and  of  his  own  divine  mission  to  convey  it, 
but  especially  assured  by  a  vision  from  heaven,  he  knew  that  the  storm 
which  drove  him  up  and  down  the  Adriatic  could  not  harm  him,  his 
confidence  being  reasonable  and  wise,  because  founded  on  a  divine 


A  X  D     r  N  S  T  U  U  C  T  I  0  K  .  13 

pronjise,  and  therefore  not  like  tlie  idle  vaunt  of  Lini  •\\]io  predicted 
security  to  bis  vessel  because  it  carried  Ciesar  and  bis  fortunes.  Tbat 
Alexandrian  sbip,  the  "Castor  and  Pollux,"  coming  from  Syracuse  and 
then  from  Ebegium,  with  a  south  wind  in  a  single  day  to  Putcoli, 
becomes  as  veritable,  to  one  who  stands  on  its  ancient  mole,  as  any  oi" 
the  Italian  craft  which  still  sail  into  that  harbour. 

The  modern  name  is  Pozzuoli,  and  the  place  lies  a  few  miles  to  tho 
north  of  ^Naples.  It  is  now  much  decayed,  but  traces  of  its  former  mag- 
nificence may  be  seen  in  its  various  ruins.  Among  these  may  be 
particularly  noticed  the  Temple  of  Scrapis,  a  quadrilateral  structure  with 
a  circular  temple  in  the  middle ;  and  an  extensive  ampliitlicatre  at  tlie 
back  of  the  modern  town,  with  vast  substructions,  cljamljers  and  passages 
being  constructed  underneath  the  very  arena,  and  lighted  from  above  by 
apertures,  in  the  upper  floor  on  which  the  exhibitions  took  place.  The 
seaport  is  of  Syrian  origin,  and  was  of  great  importance  in  the  days  of 
the  apostle.  It  has  been  called  the  Liverpool  of  ancient  Italy,  whither 
went  the  vessels  from  the  coast  of  Africa,  laden  with  corn  and  other 
commodities;  while  on  its  quays,  ambassadors  and  armies  embarked  for 
their  several  stations  on  the  ^Mediterranean  coasts. 

Near  to  Pozzuoli  is  Baiie,  now  desolate,  but  crowded  with  ruins,  once 
the  most  splendid,  gay,  and  dissolute  of  watering-places.  The  old 
wave-beaten  mole,  of  Roman  workmanship,  still  existing  in  part,  is 
probably  the  same  as  that  to  which  the  "  Castor  and  Pollux"  would  be 
moored  on  the  completion  of  its  voyage.  Seventeen  piers  remain,  and 
crumbling  steps  down  into  the  water  are  there ;  and  how  we  thought  of 
the  scene  witnessed  on  the  spot  at  Paul's  landing,  as  we  gathered  some 
of  the  sea-weed,  which  grows  luxuriantly,  and  with  tenacious  roots,  ou 
the  blocks  of  the  well-known  Pozzolana. 

A  road  anciently  ran  from  the  port  to  the  great  Apjiian  Way,  connect- 
ing Rome  with  the  southern  part  of  Italy.  We  can  trace  it  still,  in  the 
pavement  of  lava,  through  the  pass  of  ilonte  Barbaro,  the  marks  of 
chariot-wheels  not  being  yet  obliterated.     When  Paul  departed  along 


14  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

this  road  to  the  imperial  cit^-,  he  would  receive  the  afiectiouate  fiirewells 
of  the  Christian  brethren,  who,  as  we  learn  from  the  Acts,  had  greeted 
his  arrival  and  besought  him  to  tarry  with  them  seven  days.  Tombs 
lined  the  streets  for  some  distance  outside  the  walls  of  the  town,  as  was 
then  the  customary  arrangement  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Roman  towns. 

At  Capua,  the  branch  road  from  Puteoli  joined  the  Appian  Way,  and 
there  the  little  band  would  find  themselves  plunged  into  the  thicker 
bustle  of  the  great  thoroughfare  leading  from  Brundisium  to  the  capital. 
Many  a  chariot^  many  a  palanquin,  many  a  horseman,  many  a  laden 
wain,  many  a  humble  carriage,  many  a  traveller  on  foot,  would  be 
passed  or  met,  as  Paul  and  Luke,  and  Julian  the  officer,  and  the  rest  of 
the  party,  wended  their  way. 

From  Capua  the  road  runs  to  Tcrracina  —  Anxur  it  was  called  in  the 
time  of  the  apostle.  It  was  a  beautiful  'May  morning  when  we  passed 
through  this  line  of  country,  and  the  remembrance  of  the  prospects 
which  came  and  went,  as  the  vetturino  quietly  drove  us  along,  will  ever 
live  in  our  imagination.  "We  still  see  the  bright  green  sides  of  the  valley 
near  St.  Agata,  speckled  with  olives,  and  the  vinos  hanging  from  branch 
to  branch  like  spiders'  webs  —  and  the  glorious  Apennines,  on  the  way 
to  Gaeta,  white  as  silver,  lifting  up  their  heads  behind  the  nearer  hills, 
enclosing  orchards  of  fig-trees,  and  pleasant  fields  where  "the  dove- 
coloured  steers  were  ploughing  up  and  down  among  the  vines."  The 
aspect  of  the  country  would  be  difierent  when  Paul  passed  through  it. 
It  was  very  early  in  the  spring.  "  The  vines  and  elms  would  have  a 
wintery  appearance,  but  the  traces  of  spring  would  be  visible  in  the 
willows,  among  which  the  Liris  flows  in  many  silent  windings,  from  the 
birthplace  of  Marius  in  the  mountains,  to  the  city  and  the  swamps  by  the 
sea,  which  the  ferocity  of  his  maturer  life  has  rendered  illustrious."  * 

Mola  de  Gaeta,  the  chief  halting-place  nextto  Capua,  on  the  road  to 
Tcrracina,  is  one  of  the  most  beautifully  situated  places  on  the  face  of 
the  earth.  Kever  shall  we  forget  the  view  which  broke  upon  us  there, 
•■  "  Life  and  Epistles  of  Paul,"  bj  Conybeare,  vol.  ii.  p.  367. 


ANDIXSTRUCTIOX.  15 

as  WQ  oponoJ  our  window  hi  tlic  early  morning.  There  lay  one  of  the 
fairest  and  most  brightly  emblazoned  leaves  of  that  wonderful  book  of 
nature,  which  our  Heavenly  Father  has  spread  out  before  Iiis  children 
here  on  earth,  and  which  he  has  taught  us,  by  his  holy  word,  to  read 
with  other  eyes  than  mere  nature  or  reason  can  ever  give.  How  noble 
are  the  forms  of  the  distant  mountains  to  the  south  —  of  the  promontory 
of  Gaeta  to  tlie  north,  with  its  long  lines  of  white  houses  —  of  the  curved 
sweep  of  the  shore,  constituting  together  one  of  the  finest  bays  iu  the 
world  ;  and  how  gorgeous  are  the  colours  of  the  deep  blue  water  and  the 
deep  blue  sky,  and  the  green  gardens  of  orange-trees,  washed  by  the 
sea-waves,  and  the  clusters  of  golden  fruit,  all  lighted  up  by  an  Italian 
sun.  Cicero  had  a  villa  here,  his  Formiau  villa.  Here  he  walked  and 
talked  with  Scipio;  here  too  he  was  murdered  by  a  man  who  owed  his 
life  to  his  victim's  eloquence.  Roman  architecture  would  adorn  the 
spot  when  Paul  passed  through  it.  We  cannot  imagine  him  iudilferent 
to  what  he  saw.  With  more  than  an  artist's,  more  than  a  poet's,  more 
than  a  historian's  thought  would  he  look  on  tho^^e  forms  and  colours, 
and  on  those  classical  associations.  All  would  be  seen  in  the  grand  light 
of  divine  truth ;  all  would  be  connected  with  the  work  of  the  Creator, 
and  the  way  of  the  Lord  of  providence  ;  and  we  feel  it  to  be  no  unnatural 
picture,  when  we  fancy  Paul  there  looking  over  the  bay,  and  repeating 
with  deep  emotion  his  own  sublime  words,  "Of  him,  and  through  him, 
and  to  him  are  all  things,  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever." 

The  road  leaves  the  sea  at  Gaeta,  and  Paul  travelled  over  the  Ccccu- 
ban  hills,  yielding  abundance  of  vines  from  their  stony  soil.  The  passes 
•which  we  crossed  were  deeply  interesting,  though  in  some  parts  dreary 
and  solemn  ;  rendered,  especially  towards  nightfall,  additionally  so  by 
the  remembrance  of  the  deeds  of  violence  often  committed  hereabouts, 
by  the  brigands  who  used  to  haunt  the  region  —  a  race  which,  though 
considerably  checked  and  reduced,  is  not  yet  quite  extinct,  so  that  it 
would  not  be  safe  travelling  there,  even  in  the  present  day,  w'ere  it  not 
for  the  picquets  of  soldiers  that  guard  the  road. 


16  r  0  K  T  F  0  L  I  0     OF     E  N  T  K  11 T  A  I  X  M  E  N  T 

Fondi,  on  the  Keapolitau  frontier,  stands  iu  the  old  Appian  Way, 
another  pohit,  consequently,  in  which  we  felt  ourselves  to  be  in  company 
■(.vith  the  apostle.  AYc  travelled  on,  still  keeping  to  the  ancient  road, 
close  to  the  sea,  the  mountains  rising  boldly  to  the  right.  The  narrow 
pass  approaching  Terraeina  is  famous  as  the  stronghold  of  Fubius  Maxi- 
mus  in  the  second  Funic  war,  when  he  held  the  defile  against  the 
passage  of  Hannibal.  Terraeina  itself  is  another  of  the  spots  on  this 
road  distinguished  for  its  scenery  and  associations,  the  latter,  however, 
belonging  chiefly  to  a  period  subsecpient  to  the  era  of  the  apostle.  Yet 
it  was  in  his  time  a  groat  naval  port;  Eomau  navies  rode  there  in  safety, 
and  the  rings  are  still  visible  to  which  the  sailors  used  to  moor  their 
galleys.  One  of  the  most  prominent  buildings  there  at  present  is  the 
papal  palace,  the  retreat  of  I'ius  VI.  —an  object  which  calls  up  thoughts 
of  the  marvellous  change  which  time  and  corruption  have  wrought  in 
the  nominal  Church  of  Christ.  Could  Paul  have  been  told,  as  he  entered 
what  are  now  the  Papal  dominions,  that  one,  calling  himself  the  succes- 
sor of  his  brother  apostle  Peter,  the  Galilean  fisherman,  would  be  sove- 
reign lord  of  that  territory,  and  claim  the  highest  prerogatives  of  a 
temporal  prince  —  it  might  well  have  startled  him. 

The  Pontine  Marshes  begin  soon  after  we  leave  Terraeina,  or  Anxnr, 
and  they  extend  for  thirty-six  miles.  Their  insalubriousncss  and  want 
of  cultivation  have  given  them  a  world-wide  celebrity;  and  it  is  certainly 
very  wearisome  and  fatiguing  to  cross  the  tame,  dead  level  road,  hy  the 
side  of  the  canal,  except  that  one  keeps  thinking,  every  now  and  then, 
of  the  illustrious  traveller  whose  footsteps  we  are  endeavouring  to  help 
our  readers  to  trace.  At  the  end  of  the  canal  occurred  the  little  incident 
recorded  by  Luke,  which  we  shall  now  halt  awhile  to  notice:  "So  we 
went  towards  Rome ;  and  from  thence,  when  the  brethren  heard  of  us, 
they  came  to  meet  us  as  far  as  Appii  Forum  and  the  Three  Taverns, 
whom  when  I'aul  saw,  he  thanked  Cod  and  took  courage." 

The  reverence  felt  for  sacred  Scripture  is  often  improperly  made  to 
influence  our  notions  of  those  who  are  described  to  us  in  its  pages,  as 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  17 

tbougla  they  were  altogetlier  aljovo  tlic  walks  of  Imniaiiity.  They  aie 
looked  upon  as  lifted  up  to  a  height  where  they  have  little,  if  anything, 
in  common  with  ourselves.  They  are  less  regarded  as  j^ersons  sur- 
rounded by  the  usual  circumstances  of  human  life,  and  as  partaking  in 
the  anxieties  of  the  human  heart,  than  as  wonderfully  gifted,  honoured 
individuals,  having  very  extraordinary  offices  to  perform  in  the  world, 
and  extraordinary  thoughts  and  feelings  about  everything.  Paul  and 
the  rest  had  indeed  a  miraculous  knowledge  of  divine  truths,  but  he  and 
they  were  "  men  of  like  passions  with  ourselves."  To  dwell  upon  one 
side  of  their  characters  is  pernicious.  'No  doubt  it  was  the  almost  exclu- 
sive meditation  upon  the  apostles'  superhuman  endowments,  ciforts,  and 
honours,  which  so  earl}-  led  to  the  mischievous  habit  of  looking  upon 
them,  and  such  as  were  like  them,  in  the  light  of  saints  —  distinctly  and 
exelusivehj  so.  They  were  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  faithful  They 
were  exalted  into  a  wonderful  class.  Reverence  for  them  grew  so  as  to 
absorb  all  sympatbj'  with  them.  They  came  to  be  worshipped.  They 
were  no  more  brethren  in  Christ.  They  were  fathers,  lords,  mediators. 
We  believe  that  the  idolatry  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church  arose  very 
ranch  out  of  this  feeling.  "We  believe,  too,  that  among  Protestants  the 
feeling,  which  is  the  germ  of  that  idolatr\-,  may  now  be  found. 

The  little  story,  then,  just  quoted,  is  of  great  importance,  inasmuch  as 
it  reminds  us  of  the  bond  of  brotherhood  which  binds  us  and  one  of 
the  greatest  of  God's  servants  together,  and  makes  us  feel  that  there  are 
deep  grounds  of  sympathy  between  him  and  ourselves.  For  the  histo- 
rian's words  convo}-  to  us  the  idea  that  Raul  was  at  the  time  depressed. 
His  thanking  God  and  taking  courage  imjsly  that  ho  wanted  encourao-e- 
rnent.  And  it  is  not  an  idle  speculation,  as  will  bo  presently  seen,  if 
we  endeavour  to  form  some  idea  of  what  might  occasion  his  depression. 
The  scenery  through  which  he  had  passed  had  probably  somothino-  to 
do  with  it.  The  marshiness  of  the  place  is  vcp}-  depressing  —  the  more 
so  to  a  traveller  going  to  Rome,  from  the  contrast  it  exhibits  to  the 
glorious  scenery  preceding  it.  \"ariegatcd  prospects,  full  of  hills  and 
2 


IS  PORTFOLIO  OF  EXTERTAINMENT 

valleys  and  plains,  palms  and  aloes,  fig-trees  and  pomegranates,  vines 
and  olives,  oranges  and  flowers,  bordered  by  the  most  beautiful  coast 
Ecenerj-,  are  suddenly  exchanged  for  a  barren  level  and  a  formal  canal, 
enclosed  by  stunted  trees.  A  contrast,  though  not  exactly  what  exists 
now,  would  bo  apparent  in  Paul's  days.  Appii  Forum  was  then  a 
market-town  at  the  extremity  of  the  canal  on  the  side  next  Rome, 
where  the  mules  which  dragged  the  packet  and  other  barges  were 
unyoked.  It  was  a  place  of  great  noise  and  bustle,  though  now  but  a 
solitary  post-house  remains.  Crowds  of  tavern-keepers  and  bargemen 
lived  there.  Travellers  in  great  numbers  passed  through  it.  It  was 
customary,  as  we  learn  from  Horace,  to  travel  in  a  towed  barge  along 
the  canal  at  night,  when  the  passengers  were  exposed  to  all  kinds  of 
annoyances,  as  the  satirist  Las  very  graphically  described.  A  man 
might  very  naturally  feel  out  of  spirits,  after  such  a  journey,  to  find,  on 
reaching  his  destination,  the  noise  and  uproar  of  his  journey  only 
redoubled.     "VVe  do  not  believe  the  apostle  was  above' such  influences. 

But  there  were  other  things  more  important  to  depress  him.  To  say 
nothing  of  the  probable  effects  of  his  disastrous  voyage  and  shipwreck, 
he  was  a  prisoner  going  in  chains  to  Rome;  not  on  a  tour  of  pleasure, 
or  even  of  business.  lie  was  travelling  among  people  proud  and 
insolent,  full  of  levity  and  licentiousness.  They  were  flocking  in  crowds 
to  and  from  the  Appian  Way,  many  going  to  and  returning  from  the 
abominable  Baije.  They  added  idolatry  to  sensualism.  They  had 
borrowed  from  Greece  both  its  superstition  and  its  vice.  If,  on  Mars' 
Hill,  Paul's  spirit  was  moved  within  him,  would  it  not  now  be  moved 
within  him  at  the  sight  he  saw  in  southern  Italy?  Such  a  man  in  such 
a  place  would  be  like  Lot  in  Sodom.  His  "righteous  soul"  would  be 
"  vexed  within  him."  Miglit  there  not  also  come  over  his  mind  thoughts 
of  the  godlessness  of  that  power  which  was  enthroned  at  Rome,  and  of 
its  impious  defiance  of  the  just  Lord  of  the  universe?  ISIight  he  not 
think  of  this,  in  connection  with  the  great  puzzle  of  the  existence  of 
moral  evil,  a  puzzle  often  forced  with  peculiar  efifect  on  thoughtful  men 


A  X  n   I  X  s  T  t;  I"  c  T  1 0  X .  1 :) 

ill  travelliiin;,  wlieii  new  forms  of  v.irkedncss  come  before  tliem?  and 
■would  not  "that  which  came  njioii  him  daily,  the  care  of  all  the 
churches,"  weigh  heavily  on  his  spirits,  as  his  mind  ran  from  one  to 
another  of  those  infant  societies,  and  rested  on  the  blots  and  lilomishcs 
of  each  ?  and  might  not  "  some  thorn  in  the  flesh,  some  messenger  of 
Satan"  sent  to  butFet  liim,  be  just  then  pricking  him  to  the  quick,  and 
making  his  whole  nature  smart  and  tingle? 

But  enough  of  tliese  conjectures.  Our  object  in  enumerating  them  is 
this  —  to  make  the  reader  feel  that  if  he  be  depi'essed,  whether  the  cause 
be  trivial  or  inqiortant,  he  is  now  01113-  what  Paul  sometimes  was,  and 
that  God  provideth  comfort  for  all  his  servants,  as  he  did  on  this  occa- 
sion for  his  apostle  I'aul.  The  Lord  had  gathered  to  himself  a  people 
at  Rome;  they  had  heard  of  the  illustrious  prisoner;  some  might  know 
him  personally ;  all  knew  him  by  character.  So  with  kind  and  loving 
lioarfs  the}'  came  forth  to  meet  him.  One  party  came  as  far  as  Appii 
Forum,  fifty-six  miles  from  Rome,  the  other  tarried  at  the  Three  Taverns, 
eight  or  ten  miles  nearer  the  cit^'.  Wc  dwell  upon  it  with  pleasure, 
because  it  is  so  simple  and  natural,  and  comes  home  so  close  to  our 
hearts.  Distance  of  time  as  well  as  place  seemed  annihilated  when  we 
were  at  Appii  Forum.  We  were  transported  at  once  into  the  first 
century,  looking  at  "  the  brethren"  as  they  came  near  the  gates,  fiimiliar 
with  all  the  incidents  connected  with  travelling,  talking  about  the  min- 
ister of  Christ  whom  they  were  expecting  to  meet,  wondering  how  ho 
looked,  and  anticipating  no  little  benefit  from  his  wisdom  and  love,  for 
he  had  come  "  to  impart  to  them  some  spiritual  gift,  to  the  end  that  they 
might  be  established."  We  read  in  Exodus  of  Moses'  interview  with 
Jcthro.  Something  like  that  would  be  the  meeting  bctwccu  Paul  and 
the  brethren  from  Rome.  Paul  would  ask  them  of  their  wellare,  and 
they  would  relate  somewhat  of  their  spiritual  history.  They  would  ask 
him  of  his  welfare,  and  lie  would  relate  to  them  passages  of  his  own 
experience  for  their  edification.  Thus  was  the  man  of  God  comforted 
at  Appii Torum,  even  as  in  Macedonia  ho  was  comforted  by  the  coming 


20  PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTERTAINMENT 

of  Titus,  and  at  Athens  by  the  arrival  of  Timoth3^  And  often  still 
does  friendship  lighten  our  loads,  and  lessen  our  sorrows.  When 
depressed,  the  sight  of  an  old  friend  is  as  a  vision  from  heaven.  It  brings 
back  the  light  of  other  days,  and  we  afresh  feel  within  the  awakening 
of  a  hope  of  better  fellowship  beyond  the  grave.  ^^vTor  can  we  donbt 
that,  in  the  case  of  the  apostle,  as  it  should  be  in  ours,  the  soothing  of 
earthly  friendship  led  to  thoughts  of  the  unseen,  divine  and  everlasting 
Friend,  who  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother. 

Joyous  was  the  eifcct.  Paul  heard  of  the  progress  of  the  cause  of 
Christ  in  Eome ;  he  saw  living  witnesses  of  tlie  power  of  grace ;  he 
received  anew  a  conviction  of  the  presence  of  the  best  of  friends,  and 
felt  assured  more  than  ever  of  the  perpetuity  and  immortal  triumphs  of 
the  cause  of  his  Lord  and  Master;  and  "he  thanked  God,  and  took 
courage."  Took  courage  to  believe  that  he  who  had  been  with  him 
would  be  with  him  still ;  took  courage  to  go  forward  to  a  city  where 
bonds  and  imprisonments  awaited  him  ;  and  took  courage  to  renew  his 
efforts  for  the  enlightenment  and  recovery  of  human  souls.  Everything 
would  wear  another  aspect  now.  His  lassitude  and  depression  would  be 
dissipated.  The  diminution  of  fatigue,  the  more  hopeful  prospect  of  the 
future,  the  renewed  elasticity  of  religious  trust,  the  sense  of  a  brighter 
light  on  all  the  scenery  around  him,  on  the  foliage  which  overshadowed 
the  road,  on  the  wide  expanse  of  the  plain  to  the  left,  on  the  high  sum- 
mit of  the  Alban  mount,  all  this  and  more  than  this  is  involved  in 
Luke's  sentence,  "  When  Paul  saw  the  brethren,  he  thanked  God,  and 
took  courage." 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  21 

f-hit  f  ;iKl>. 

[from    the    GERMAN    OF    UULAND.] 

There  is  a  land  wbcre  beauty  will  not  fade, 

Nor  sorrow  dim  the  eye ; 
Where  true  hearts  will  not  shrink  nor  be  dismayed, 

And  love  will  never  die. 
Toll  mc,  I  fain  would  go, 
For  I  am  burdened  with  a  heavy  woe ; 
The  beautiful  have  left  me  all  alone ; 
The  true,  the  tender  from  my  path  have  gone ; 
And  I  am  weak,  and  fainting  with  despair; 
Where  is  it  ?     Tell  me  where  ! 


Friend,  thou  must  trust  in  Ilira  who  trod  before, 

The  desolate  paths  of   life ; 
Must  bear  in  meekness,  as  ho  meekly  bore. 

Sorrow,  and  toil,  and  strife, 
Think  how  the  Son  of  God 
These  thorny  paths  hath  trod. 
Think  how  he  longed  to  go. 
Yet  tarried  out  for  thee  the  appointed  woo; 
Think  of  his  loneliness  in  places  dim, 
When  no  man  comforted  nor  cared  for  him ; 
Think  how  he  prayed,  unaided  and  alone. 
In  that  dread  agony,  "  Thy  will  be  done ;" 
Friend,  do  not  thou  despair, 
Christ,  in  Lis  Leaven  of  heavens,  will  Lear  thy  prayer. 


22  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

JI]C  p auger  a\  pclatr. 

yfie&^^^vcj?;-^  TIE  Bible  paj's,  "  Boliold  note  is  tlie  accpptcd  time, 
,-*.  nJ  \^  behold  now  is  the  day  of  salvation,"  2  Cor.  vi.  2.  It 
'^D»rf  ,v  i''^5  however,  a  painful  fact,  that  although  nothing  is 

■f  ■v^-*^\  ^        more  uncertain  than  life,  men  are  continually  putting 

f't^^^sS^^:^  off  the  claims  of  the  soul  until  "a  more  convenient 
season."  The  sad  experience  of  many  has  been  that 
the  great  woi'k  has  been  neglected,  until  there  is  no  time  for  repentance, 
and  they  know  the  solemn  import  of  the  words  of  Jeremiah,  viii.  20: 
"  The  harvest  is  past,  the  summer  is  ended,  and  we  are  not  saved."  But 
to  show  the  reader  the  extreme  folly  of  trifling  with  the  claims  of  the 
gospel,  and  the  awful  danger  of  delaj-,  his  serious  attention  is  requested 
to  the  following  fact,  taken  from  the  life  of  Alexander  Baterson,  the 
missionary  of  Kilraany. 

Among  the  persons  visited  bj-  Mr.  Baterson  was  a  female,  comfortable 
in  circumstances,  but  with  no  time,  as  she  thought,  to  spare  for  lier  soul. 
"When  visiting  the  district  in  which  she  lived,  he  always  called,  but  never 
got  admittance. 

One  daj',  after  he  had  spoken  to  her  very  solemnly  at  the  door,  warn- 
ing her  of  tlie  danger  of  dying  without  Christ,  he  was  going  up-stairs  to 
visit  another  family',  when  she  came  out  and  cried  after  him,  "  Oh  !  be 
sure  and  not  be  long  in  coming  back  again,  for  I  do  wish  to  see  you." 
In  a  few  days  he  called. 

"  I  'm  sorr}',"  she  said,  the  moment  she  opened  the  door,  "  I  have  no 
tiine  to  receive  you  to-day;  I've  a  friend  come  from  London,  and  I've 
to  go  out  with  him." 

"  Well,  you  will  have  time  to  die,  whether  you  're  prepared  or  not ;  so 
you've  no  time  just  now?" 

"No,  not  to-day." 

"  Well,  let  me  say  this  to  you,  in  case  you  and  I  never  meet  again  — 


A  N  D     I  N  S  T  II  U  C  T  I  0  N  ,  26 

'Behold,  7102V  is  tlic  accepted  time,  now  is  the  da}'  of  salvation.'  'To- 
day, if  you  will  liear  his  voice,  harden  not  your  heart.'  '  Turn  at  my 
reproof,  and  I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit  upon  you,  and  make  known  my 
words  unto  you  ;'  but  observe  what  follows  :  '  Because  I  have  called,  and 
ye  refused;  I  have  stretched  out  my  hands,  and  no  man  regarded;  Ijnt  ye 
have  set  at  nought  all  my  counsel,  and  would  none  of  my  reproof;  I 
also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity;  I  will  mock  when  your  I'ear  conieth.' 
Oh !  think  of  these  things,  lest  I  never  see  you  again."  She  thanked 
him,  and  he  went  awa}\ 

That  night  she  and  her  brother  went  to  the  theatre ;  she  "  took  ill" 
while  slie  was  in  it  —  she  came  home  —  grew  worse  —  and  was  in  etc r- 
nit}-  by  live  o'clock  next  morning. 

"The  thing,"  said  Mr.  Patei-son,  "so  impressed  me,  that  I  resolved, 
if  God  spared  me,  to  labour,  by  his  grace,  more  diligently  than  ever." 


Salt  ai  lostpl]  hv  Iiis  IJrctlTrcn. 

EPSIUS,  the  great  German  Egyptologist,  is  engaged 
at  the  present  time*  in  the  preparation  of  a  work  em- 
\  bodying  the  results  of  liis  vast  investigations.  jMean- 
\N"f  '^  r.r^  ilP  '  ^^■hile,  a  publication  has  appeared  in  England  fi'om 
^^M%f/^'^  ^.V,  the  pen  of  an  anonymous  scholar,  apjiarcntly  of 
/TT-.^*?rrfr^??7^"~"  no  mean  attainments.  Tlie  work  in  question  is 
entitled,  "Israel  in  Egypt;"  and  is  an  able  and  captivating  attempt  to 
exhibit  the  elofiuent  testimony  of  Egyiitian  monumental  inscriiitions  to 
the  truth  of  the  Bible.  In  the  present  transition  state  of  these  studies, 
however,  and  while  considerable  diver.-ifies  of  opinion  still  exist  among 
leading  scholars  upon  many  important  points  in  chronology  and  liistory, 

*  1854. 


24  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

it  will  be  necessary  to  receive  with  caution  some  of  the  solutions  offered. 
"With  this  reservation,  we  think  the  work  well  worthy  of  a  place  in  every 
Chrii-tian's  library,  and  with  the  view  of  making  our  readers  acquainted 
with  the  nature  of  its  contents,  we  puq^oso  giving,  in  a  short  paper  or 
two,  a  few  extracts  in  elucidation  of  the  extraordinary  life  of  Joseph  in 
Egypt. 

Passing  over  tlie  touching  details  of  fraternal  perfidy  and  cruelty  which 
took  place  in  the  pasturages  of  Dothan,  we  picture  to  ourselves  the  sor- 
rowiuo-  youth,  thus  suddenly  and  vindictively  rent  from  all  his  kindred, 
borne  away  from  his  native  hills  and  valleys  by  a  company  of  desert 
traders ;  who  seem  to  have  felt  no  more  scruple  in  trafficldng  in  human 
beings,  than  they  did  in  dealing  in  the  natural  productions  of  the  land 
thev  traversed.  The  following  remarks  in  illustration  of  this  atfecting 
event  will  be  read  with  interest :  — 

"  The  merchants  or  traders  to  whom  Joseph  was  sold  were  Ishmaelitcs 
by  descent,  and  Midianites  by  nation,  ilidian  was  the  portion  of  the 
Sliiaitic  desert  which  lay  immediately  adjacent  to  the  eastern  frontier  of 
Egyjit.  B3'  profession  they  were  merchants.  They  carried  to  Canaan 
the  corn,  the  wine,  the  oil,  the  linen  of  Egypt.  They  returned  to  Egypt 
with  the  spicery,  the  balm,  the  myrrh,  the  precious  woods,  the  minerals 
of  Canaan.  Spicery  only  is  mentioned  in  the  inspired  narrative  before 
us.  The  clan  to  which  Joseph  was  sold  traded  in  this  article  alone. 
The  demand  for  it  in  Egj-pt  was  enormous.  The  careful  examination 
of  the  mummies  of  difierent  epochs  establishes  the  fixct  that  at  these 
remote  periods  it  was  used  in  the  ombalment  both  of  men  and  sacred 
animals,  to  an  extent  which  was  not  practicable  in  after  times  through 
the  failure  of  the  supply. 

"The  twenty  pieces,  or  rings  of  silver,  which  these  merchants  paid  the 
hardened  men  as  the  price  of  their  brother,  were,  at  this  age  of  the  world, 
by  no  means  the  small  amount  that  it  sounds  in  modern  ears.  Silver 
always  takes  the  precedence  of  gold,  when  both  are  enumerated  in  the 
earlier  poi-tious  of  the  inspired  narrative.     The  same  is  the  case  iu  the 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  2b 

hierogl^'pliic  texts ;  Bilvor  is  always  mentioned  before  gold  as  the  more 
precious  metal,  both  on  account  of  its  comparative  rarity,  and  because 
of  its  more  extensive  use  for  the  adornment  and  utensils  of  the  temples 
on  account  of  its  colour.  Whiteness  and  purity  were  inseparably  con- 
nected in  the  Egyptian  mythology. 

It  has,  doubtless,  often  excited  the  curiosity  of  many  an  inquisitive 
student  of  Joseph's  eventful  history,  to  know  in  which  of  the  great  cities 
of  ancient  Egypt  this  interesting  Hebrew  lived,  in  turn  as  a  slave,  as  a 
prisoner,  as  a  prince,  and  as  a  prefect  of  the  empire.  According  to  our 
author,  the  captive  stranger  was  taken  by  his  owners  to  On,  or  Heliopo- 
lis,  situated  at  the  crown  of  the  Delta,  and  nearly  contiguous  to  the 
termination  of  the  track  which  the  caravan  pursued  on  its  way  across 
the  Midianite  desert.  This  city  became  famous  in  after  ages  for  the 
number,  magnitude,  and  beauty  of  its  temples,  which  were  "  all  dedi- 
cated to  Re  Athom,  that  is,  to  the  sun,  as  the  father  of  the  gods,  imper- 
sonated in  Adam,  the  father  of  mankind."  The  obelisks  with  which 
ancient  Eome  was  adorned,  and  which  still  remain  in  modern  Rome, 
were  all  brought  from  the  ruined  temples  of  Heliopolis.  One  solitary 
obelisk  stands  upright  to  this  day,  amid  its  sand-covered  ruins.  When 
Joseph  iirst  gazed  with  wonder  upon  the  spot,  that  obelisk  had  already 
stood  where  it  now  stands,  for  more  than  a  century. 

According  to  the  inspired  narrative  (Gen.  xxxix.  1-6)  Joseph  was 
sold  by  the  Ishmaelite  traders  to  Potiphar,  "  an  officer  of  Pharaoh,  a 
captain  of  the  guard,"  or,  as  explained  b}-  our  author,  "a  prince  and  an 
inspector  of  the  plantations."  "  The  meaning  of  the  name  Potiphar," 
he  continues,  "is  he  who  belongs  {is  devoted)  to  the  sun,  the  local  god  of 
Heliopolis."  This  is  a  point  of  great  importance,  as  indicating  the 
locality  in  which  Potiphar  was  a  resident.  The  title  translated  "prince" 
is  of  constant  occurrence  in  the  tombs  of  the  magnates  of  Egypt ;  and, 
wonderful  to  tell,  the  inspired  penman  has  copied  it  almost  letter  for 
letter  from  the  hieroglyphic  original  —  srsh.  The  Pharaoh  to  whoso 
court  Potiphar  was  attached,  and  who  afterwards  became  the  patron  of 


^6  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

Joseph,  was  tlio  King  riiiops  or  Apliopbis.  All  the  ancient  authorities 
who  have  mentioned  the  subject  agree  in  this  conclusion  with  such  per- 
fect unanimity,  that  to  reject  their  testimony  is  simply,  observes  our 
author,  to  throw  overboard  all  antiquity. 

From  another  expression  which  is  used  in  the  Divine  record  to  desig- 
nate the  new  master  of  the  expatriated  Hebrew  youth,  our  author  very 
ino-eniously  draws  an  argument  in  support  of  his  view  that  the  "  shep- 
herd kings,"  who  were  regarded  with  such  detestation  by  the  native 
Egyptians,  were  of  Canaanitish  origin,  and  that,  even  after  they  were 
subdued,  many  of  their  adherents  still  dwelt  in  the  land.  Here  are  his 
remarks:  "We  are  told  that  Potiphar  was  'an  Egyptian.'  This  would 
appear,  at  first  sight,  to  be  a  very  needless  piece  of  information  regard- 
ing a  prince  of  Egypt  residing  in  his  native  city ;  yet  is  the  expression 
thrice  repeated.  In  this  very  concise  narrative,  wherein  no  words  are 
wasted  and  nothing  is  written  in  vain,  we  cannot  doubt  that  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  Egypt  at  the  time  of  Joseph's  deportation  tliither,  have 
suggested  this  expression.  In  ordinary  cases  it  would  have  been  a  mere 
pleonasm  to  write  that  a  prince  of  Egypt,  residing  at  Thebes,  or  any 
other  city  of  Egypt,  was  himself  an  Egj-ptian ;  that  would  follow  as  a 
matter  of  course.  But  at  Heliopolis,  in  the  days  of  Aphophis,  when 
there  were  Canaanites  both  in  the  court  and  camp  of  Pharaoh,  the  case 
was  very  different ;  and  it  was  of  the  last  importance  to  the  descendants 
of  Joseph,  in  after  times,  to  know  that  their  progenitor  had  been  a  bond- 
slave in  the  house,  not  of  one  of  the  accursed  and  devoted  race  of 
Canaan,  but  of  a  prince  of  Egypt,  a  lineal  descendant  from  Mizraim  and 
the  first  settlers,  having  his  estate  at  Heliopolis,  and  named  hereditarily 
after  the  local  god  of  his  native  city.  In  these  circumstances  has 
originated  the  triple  repetition  of  the  fact  that  Potiphar  was  an  Egyjitian." 

But  though  thus  rudely  torn  from  his  home  and  his  kindred,  Joseph 
was  not  friendless  or  alone.  God  was  with  him,  and  his  presence  can 
make  even  the  house  of  bondage  endurable,  and  compensate  for  any 
material  and  social  privations  which  his  servants  may  be  called  upon  to 


ANDINSTKUCTION.  'Jl 

sufFcr.  The  inspired  story  is  very  clear  and  emphatic  ou  this  point. 
No  sooner  had  Joseph  reached  Egypt  than  the  wonderful  plans  of  God 
began  to  be  disclosed  in  the  history  of  his  remarkable  experiences.  So 
marked  were  the  excellences  of  his  character  that  "his  master  saw  that 
the  Lord  was  with  him,  and  that  the  Lord  made  all  that  he  did  to  pros- 
per in  his  hand.  And  Joseph  found  grace  in  his  sight,  and  he  served 
him;  and  he  set  him  over  all  his  house,  and  all  that  he  had  he  put  into 
his  hand.  And  it  came  to  pass,  from  the  time  that  he  had  set  him  over 
all  his  house  and  over  all  that  he  had,  that  the  Lord  blessed  the  Egyp- 
tian's house  for  Joseph's  sake ;  and  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  was  upon 
all  that  he  had  in  the  house  and  in  the  field.  And  he  left  all  that  he 
had  in  Joseph's  hand,  and  knew  not  aught  that  he  had,  save  the  bread 
which  he  did  cat."  Such  are  the  rewards  and  distinctions  which  often- 
times fall  to  the  lot  of  early  piety  and  manly  rectitude. 


|ffst))lt  lit  |1ri$fltt. 


f^'ELL-DOESTG  does  not  always  exempt  the  servants 
of  God  from  trouble,  misrepresentation,  and  dis- 
aster. While  the  world  is  what  it  is,  "  they  that 
will  live  godly"  must  expect,  to  a  greater  or  less 
extent,  to  "  suli'er  pei-sccution."  The  path  of  duty 
leads  sometimes  through  strange  and  unexpected 
Bccues.  The  inflexible  honour  of  Joseph  led  him  into  a  prison.  But  it 
is  better  to  sit  on  the  floor  of  the  dungeon  with  God's  face  beaming 
upon  us,  than  to  recline  on  ivory  and  silken  couches  in  the  luxurious 
palace,  with  sin  stinging  the  conscience  and  remorse  harrowing  the 
heart.     Moreover,  the  light  of  piety  that  had  burned  so  beautifully  before 


28  PORTFOLIO    or    ENTERTAINMENT 

Potijiliar's  honseliokl,  so  far  from  being  extinguished  by  his  removal, 
now  blessed  the  eyes  of  the  inmates  of  the  prison-house.  Though  put 
among  the  "king's  prisoners" — a  strange,  miscellaneous  assemblage  of 
men,  as  we  may  imagine  —  such  was  the  extraordinary  fascination  of 
this  foreign  youth,  that  he  speedily  won  the  favour  of  the  keeper  of 
the  prison,  who  entrusted  to  him  the  oversight  and  control  of  the 
prisoners.  Thus  palace  and  prison  are  alike,  when  the  Lord  is  with  his 
people ;  he  can  as  easily  promote  their  advancement  in  the  latter  as  in 
the  former. 

The  nature  of  the  new  post  to  which  the  calumniated  and  wronged 
young  Hebrew  was  promoted  is  thus  described  by  the  writer  of  "  Israel 
in  Egypt."  "Joseph  was  the  officer  or  task-master  over  the  prisoners. 
Ilis  duties  coincided  exactly  with  those  of  the  task-masters  over  his 
descendants  long  afterwards.  A  fixed  amount  of  labour  was  required 
of  the  jailer,  and  his  superiors  never  inquired  into  the  means  whereby 
it  was  exacted.  The  skill  and  tact  of  Joseph  in  obtaining  this,  recom- 
mended him  to  his  keeper.  These  prisons  were  apparently  regarded  as 
an  indispensable  appendage  to  every  great  construction  in  Egypt.  The 
reliefs  upon  the  walls  give  fearful  indications  of  the  cruelties  exercised 
upon  their  unhappy  inmates.  Yet  the  Divine  blessing  can  send  pros- 
perity even  into  such  a  den  of  misery.  This  is  a  cousolatoiy  reflection 
to  those  who  believe  the  Bible." 

While  Joseph  was  thus  occupied,  giving  dignity  to  daily  drudgeries, 
by  the  devout  spirit  with  which  they  were  performed,  two  high  function- 
aries of  the  court,  who  had  incurred  the  royal  displeasure,  were  con- 
signed to  captivity  witli  the  general  herd  of  prisoners.  One  of  them 
appears  to  have  been  head  cellarman,  or  keeper  of  drinks  for  the  royal 
use ;  and  the  other  was  the  chief  of  the  cooks.  Upon  the  dignity  and 
importance  of  these  offices  in  ancient  Egypt,  our  author  has  the  follow- 
ing striking  remarks. 

"These  princes  were  equal,  probably  superior,  in  rank  to  Potiphar. 
Their  ofEces  were  of  the  highest  possible  consideration.     In  all  pictures 


AND    IXSTRUCTION. 


of  liauquets,  tlio  eldest  son  liaiv.l.s  tlio  viands  and  tlie  cnp  to  tlio  father 
of  the  family  —  the  eldest  danghter  to  the  mother.  This  is  especially 
the  case  with  Pharaoh,  so  that  in  all  prohability  these  were  princes  of 
the  blood.  It  is  very  important  that  this  should  be  imdcrstood,  as 
otherwise  the  force  of  the  succeeding  narrative  is  greatly  weakened. 

"It  will  be  perceived  that  the  principle  of  the  law  of  Egypt  we  have 
before  explained,  is  also  in  force  in  the  present  instance.  The  superior 
alone  is  held  responsible  for  the  whole  of  the  acts  of  his  subordinates. 
Both  the  departments  here  in  question  were  of  an  extent  and  import- 
ance in  ancient  Egypt,  of  which  our  modern  notions  will  receive  but  a 
faint  impression.  Even  in  the  establishments  of  the  princes  and  nobles, 
hundreds  of  men  were  employed  in  gatlieriug  the  grapes,  and  pressing 
and  storing  the  wine,  and  also  in  the  preparation  of  the  viands,  for  a 
single  banquet  of  frequent  periodical  recuri'euce.  There  were  more  than 
a  hundred  dishes  served  in  the  tri-monthly  festivals  in  honour  of  the 
dead,  held  in  the  tomb  of  Xahrai  at  Bcnihassan.  The  bill  of  fare  yet 
remains.  This  is  also  the  case  with  many  other  tombs.  The  otfeueo 
with  which  these  two  princes  were  charged  must  have  been  of  a  very 
grave  character,  connected  in  all  probability  with  some  attempt  to 
administer  poison.  They  would  not  otherwise  have  been  committed  to 
the  slave  prison." 


30  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

In  Genesis  xl.,  from  the  fifth  to  the  thirteeuth  verse,  we  have  a  narra- 
tion of  the  dreams  of  these  two  princely  culprits,  and  the  favoural)le 
interpretation  of  the  dream  of  the  cup-hearer  hy  Joseph.  After  turning 
to  the  Bible  and  studying  the  passage,  the  reader  will  he  prepared  to 
aj^preciate  the  following  elucidatory  remarks  :  —  "  This  passage  clearly 
indicates  the  oiBce  held  by  the  functionary  in  the  court  of  Pharaoh. 
He  had  the  oversight  of  the  king's  vineyards  and  the  king's  cellars,  as 
well  as  the  function  of  cup-bearer  to  Pharaoh.  The  office  was  highly 
esteemed  in  ancient  Egypt.  Many  of  the  princes  of  the  courts  of 
Suphis  and  Sephres  have  inscribed  it  in  the  long  catalogue  of  their 
titles.  The  peculiarities  of  the  climate  and  soil  of  Egypt  arc  specially 
suited  to  the  culture  of  tlie  vine,  and  of  these  daj-s  of  old  scarcely  a 
tomb  remains  in  which  the  entire  process  of  the  vintner's  art,  from  the 
planting  and  watering  of  the  vine-stocks  to  the  pouring  of  the  expressed 
juice  from  vessel  to  vessel,  and  storing  it  in  earthen  jars,  is  not  most 
carefully  and  elaborately  depicted.  That  the  oversight  of  the  royal 
vine^'ards  was  also  associated  with  the  function  of  cup-bearer  to  the 
king  is  highly  probable,  though  for  the  formal  statement  of  tlie  fact  we 
are  indebted  altogether  to  the  passage  before  us.  It  was  once  imagined 
that  the  vine  did  not  grow  in  Egypt  in  ancient  times,  because  Herodotus 
and  the  Greek  authors  do  not  mention  it.  "We  believe  one  of  the  infidel 
objections  of  the  last  century  to  the  passage  before  us  was  founded  upon 
this  circumstance.     The  tombs,  however,  have  a  voice  to  answer  it." 

Every  Bible  reader  knows  how  remarkably  Joseph's  interpretation 
was  verified  in  the  restoration  of  the  degraded  functionary ;  and  will 
remember,  moreover,  that  sad  illustration  of  human  ingratitude  which 
was  presented  by  the  cup-bearer,  who  speedily  forgot,  amid  tlie  respon- 
sibilities of  office  and  the  allurements  of  court  life,  the  companion  of 
his  misfortunes,  who  had,  as  a  parting  request,  solicited  the  exercise  of 
his  influence  with  the  king  to  procure  his  release  from  unjust  confine- 
ment. Joseph  had  to  learn  what  many  others  have  had  to  experience 
since  his  days,  that  "  it  is  better  to  trust  in  the  Lord  than  to  put  con- 
fidence in  princes." 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  31 

"And  wbeu  the  prince,  the  liiii^li  steward,  (of  tlio  cooks,)  saw  that 
the  interpretation  was  good,  he  said  nnto  Joseph,  I  also  was  in  my 
dream,  and  behold  I  had  three  baskets  of  white  (probably  pure)  meats 
upon  my  bead.  And  in  the  uppermost  basket  was  all  manner  of  bake- 
meats  for  Pharaoh  ;  and  the  birds  did  eat  them  out  of  the  basket  upon 
my  head."  (Gen.  xl.  16,  17.)  "The  illustration  of  tliis  passage,  to  be 
found  in  the  contemporary  tombs  of  Egypt,  is  to  the  full  as  important 
and  interesting  as  those  we  have  already  cousiderd.  The  entire  process, 
from  the  slaughtering  and  flaying  of  the  oxen,  the  capture  and  the 
plucking  of  the  birds,  and  the  netting  of  the  fish,  up  to  the  serving  of 
the  bake-meats  upon  the  guest-tables,  are  all  minutely  and  elaborately 
commemorated  in  those  wondrous  records  of  times  and  customs  that 
have  so  long  passed  away.  The  most  trifling  particular  in  the  passage 
finds  its  illustration  there. 

"  When  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  princes  of  Egypt  served  their 
parents  at  table,  they  carried  upon  their  heads  three  baskets,  one  piled 
upon  the  other,  and  in  the  uppermost  were  the  bake-meats.  That  in 
crossing  tlie  bypa^tbral  courts  of  the  palaces  of  Egypt,  the  viands  would 
be  exposed  to  the  birds,  is  a  trait  of  every  day  life  in  hot  countries. 
We  only  notice  it  for  the  purpose  of  reminding  the  reader  that,  in 
ancient  Egypt,  the  vulture,  the  eagle,  the  ibis,  and  other  carnivorous 
birds  were  held  sacred,  and  to  destroy  one  of  them  was  to  incur  the 
penalty  of  murder.  Flights  of  these  voracious  creatures  haunted  the 
cities  of  Eg3'pt,  and  occasioned  no  little  inconvenience  to  the  inhabit- 
ants. 

In  Genesis  xl.,  verses  18,  19,  20,  22,  we  have  Joseph's  interpretation 
of  the  chief  baker's  dream  also,  and  an  intimation  of  its  fatal  fulfilment; 
in  illustration  of  which  avc  have  the  following  remarks  by  our  author; 
—  "  The  birthday  of  the  reigning  king  of  Egypt  was  a  high  festival  at 
all  periods  of  its  history.  One  of  the  objects  of  the  liosetta  inscription 
is,  to  decree  the  observances  to  take  place  on  the  birthday  of  Ptolemy 


32 


PORirOLIO    OF    ENTERTAINMENT 


Epiplianos.  Many  similar  decrees  of  earlier  periods  arc  also  extant. 
That  it  would  also  be  a  da}-  for  the  exercise  of  justice  in  a  jail-deliveiy 
is  liigblj  probable,  and  in  accordance  with  ancient  custom  ;  though  here 
again  our  text  illustrates  ancient  Egypt,  instead  of  receiving  illustration 
from  it.  The  tombs  of  Egypt  contain  no  records  of  crimes.  It  is  to  the 
text,  therefore,  that  we  are  once  more  indebted.  Capital  punishment 
was  by  decapitation  in  ancient  as  in  modern  Egypt  at  this  day.  After 
the  execution,  the  bodies  of  the  criminals  were  hung  on  trees,  to  be 
devoured  by  the  gods  of  Egj'pt." 


f'I|C  ttofl  iuMtt tains. 


r'E  are  told  by  Robertson,  in  his  "Ilistorj'  of  America," 
^  ,„  that  an  expedition  was  undertaken  by  Juan  Ponce 
de  Leon,  iu  the  16th  century,  with  the  view  of  dis- 
covering a  wonderful  fountain,  believed  by  the  natives 


of  Puerto  Rico  to  spring  in  one  of  the  Lucayo  Isles, 
aud  to  possess  the  virtue   of  restoring  j-outh  to  all 
ivho  bathed  in  its  waters. 


Tr.ME  was,  when  a  quaint  band  of  wanderers  sought, 
In  a  pilgrimage  weary,  with  suifering  fraught. 
For  a  far  distant  fountain,  whose  silver  waves  bore 
The  riches  of  life  to  the  sands  of  the  shore  : 
Where  the  merry  stream  danced  in  the  rays  of   die  sun, 
Leaping  high  in  its  glee,  as  the  current  rolled  on  : 
They  sought  amid  peril,  for,  earnestly,  they 
Rested  faith  in  the  legend  that  pointed  the  way. 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  33 

To  one  of   Lucayo's  briglit  isles  of   the  sea 
They  looked,  as  the  spot  whore  that  fountain  should  be ; 
Tliose  isles  of  the  sun,  where  the  breezes  of  air 
Come  freighted  with  fragrance  sweet,  balmy,  and  rare  : 
'Twas  there  they  were  taught,  where  each  breath  was  delight, 
That  the  streams  of   their  search  should  appear  to  their  sight, 
Gemmed  with  amethysts,  rubies,  and  treasures  untold, 
Of  precious  stones,  emeralds,  diamonds,  and  gold. 

Whoever  might  bathe  in  that  fountain  should  bear 

A  frame  xincorrupted  by  sorrow  or  care ; 

The  bloom  of  life's  vigour  should  mantle  his  cheek, 

And  his  body,  unscathed  by  time's  lapse,  ne'er  grow  weak ; 

His  eye  hold  its  lustre,  his  voice  keep  its  tone, 

And  youth  reign  triumphant  when  youth's  years  were  gone; 

Each  sound  from  the  glen,  and  the  mountain  and  wave. 

Give  the  promise  of  beauty  unmarred  by  the  grave. 

Endued   with  such  fuith,  by  such  burning  hopes  led, 

They  rested  not,  t;u-rie  J  not,  bowed  not  the  head ; 

Though  the  track  of   their   journey  was  rugged  and  lone, 

They  hushed  every  plaint,  and  suppressed  every  tuoan  : 

No  obstacle  baffled,  no  peril  dismayed. 

Nor  mountains  discouraged,  nor  barrier  stayed ; 

On  and  onward  they  sped ;    for  the  guerdon  so  fair, 

That  they  hoped  to  possess,  kept  their  souls  from  despair : 

And  their  toils  they  beguiled,  with  the  fanciful  dream 

Of  laving  their  brow  in  that  magical  stream. 

Thus  toilsomely,  heavily  passed  they,  for  ne'er 
Did  their  anxious  eyes  welcome  that  fountain  so  fair; 
And  still,  wildly  mocking,  through  sorrow  and  pain, 
The  legend  would  lure  them  their  object  to  gain. 
3 


34  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTE  11 TAINMENT 

Though  way-worn  and  anguished,  ita  promises  sweet 
Come  like  balm  to  their  bosom  and  oil  to  their  feet, 
Might  those  life-giving  waters  be  reached,  they  would  know 
All  youth's  joys  in  their  brightest  and  sunniest  glow. 


Sweet  Fount  —  sweetest  vision  !  Alas !  mortal  eye 
No  trace  of  thy  being  may  ever  descry ! 
Though  its  freshness  be  vaunted  as  perfect  and  pure, 
Though  its  virtue  be  chaunted  as  holy  and  sure. 
Frail  child  of  the  earth !   in  no  moss-covered  dell 
Hath  a  streamlet  e'er  borne  such  a  magical  spell; 
'    No  draught  hath  the  power  to  lighten  life's  chain, 
Or  chancre  tremulous  asre  into  vigour  again ! 


But  there  is  a  rich  fount,  in  a  far  distant  land, 
Which  pourcth  its  flood  on  the  glittering  strand  — 
A  fountain,  whose  source  is  celestial  and  bright, 
And  which  flows  through  a  realm  of  unclouded  delight  I 
There  no  false  legend  lures,  with  its  mystical  strains. 
Its  believers  to  weariness,  trials,  and  pains : 
But  a  glory  more  perfect  than  earth  can  bestow 
Sheds  a  halo  too  brilliant  for  mortal  to  know. 


Of  that  pure  living  water,  who  drinks  is  at  rest. 

No  longer  by  grief  or  afilictions  distressed; 

The  weight  of  long  years  shall  oppress  him  no  more. 

For  the  draught  he  has  drained  can  his  fervour  restore; 

No  gathering  film  shall  his  vision  obscure, 

For  that  stream  e'en  the  deepest  of  blindness  can  cure; 

No  fear  for  the  future  shall  ever  dismay. 

For  its  tides  can  the  gloomiest  cares  wash  away. 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  35 

O'crhanging  that  fountain  the  Tree  of  Life  stands, 
Sustained  and  upheld  by  Omnipotent  hands; 
Abroad,  o'er  the  waters,  cool  shadows  it  flings 
While  above  and  around  one  vast  melody  rings. 
'Tis  the  strains  of  the  ransom'd,  who  sing  of  His  love, 
Who  called  them  to  join  the  blest  choir  above; 
Who,  sinless  himself,  could  a  sinful  world  save 
From  the  curse  and  its  penalty  —  death  and  the  grave. 


There  flowers  perennial  are  blooming  in  lustre, 

And  wide-spreading  palms  in  fresh  foliage  cluster; 

There  rivers  of  pleasure  in  fulness  are  swelling, 

And  wave  answers  wave,  on  their  anthem-notes  dwelling : 

Sweet  fields  and  broad  plains  dressed  in  exquisite  green. 

Need  no  sunshine  of  earth  to  illumine  their  sheen 

For  before  his  bright  presence,  whose  throne  is  on  high, 

A  thousand  suns'  glories  would  glimmer  and  die. 


No  moon  sheds  its  rays,  and  no  twinkling  stars  shine, 

In  that  region  of  splendour  and  rapture  divine ; 

But  angel-bands  stand,  with  their  blood-washed  robes  gleaming 

In  the  halo  of  light  from  his  mighty  throne  streaming. 

They  strike  their  rich  harps,  and  the  eloquent  strain 

Is  caught  up,  and  repeated,  and  echoed  again : 

"All  glory  to  God  in  the  highest !"    they  sing, 

"Redeemer,  and  Saviour,  and  Prophet,  and  King." 


The  eye  hath  not  seen,  and  the  ear  hath  not  heard, 
What  blessedness  is  for  the  just  ones  prepared. 
In  the  city  above,  where  the  jasper  walls  shine 
In  the  majesty  perfect  of  Godhead  Divine ! 


36  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

Its  portals  of  pearl  arc  unclosed,  as  they  rise 
From  the  dulness  of  earth  to  the  bliss  of  the  skies, 
And  myriads  of  seraphs  the  chorus  prolong. 
As  they  join  in  the  rapturous  welcoming  song 

There  friends,  severed  long,  meet  together  in  gladness, 

rJo  more  to  be  pained  by  earth's  partings  and  sadness; 

All  gloom  and  all  doubtings  have  melted  away. 

And  they  live  in  the  light  of   unquenchable  day. 

There  the  Lamb  leads  his  flock,  and  they  drink  with  delight 

Of  the  Water  of  Life :   now  with  faith  changed  to  sight, 

No  sorrows  afiBict  them,  no  terrors  distress, 

For  his  grace  is  about  them  to  guard  and  to  bless ! 

Very  lovely,  indeed,  was  the  legend  which  told 
Of  the  "  Fountain  of  Youth"  to  the  pilgrims  of  old ! 
Full  of  beauty  and  hope ;   but  alas !   for  its  worth  — 
It  was  fabled  and  false,  like  each  promise  of  earth  : 
But  the  "  Fountain  of  Life"  is  of  origin  pure ; 
The  word  that  has  spoken  is  steadfast  and  sure  ! 
Bear  me  hence.  Angel  Watchers,  to  that  blissful  shore. 
Where  all  sighs  shall  be  hushed,  and  all  sufferings  o'er. 


AND    INSTKUCTION. 


37 


%\t  |ig-fr£C. 


HE  common  fig-tree  was  in  all  probaljility  a  native  of 
V*  Asia,  tbougli  it  was  introduced  into  Europe  at  a  very 
early  period.  lu  the  east  it  grows  in  great  luxuriance, 
and  travellers  speak  gratefully  of  its  shelter  and  shade. 
"  It  was,"  says  Burckhardt,  speaking  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Tiberias,  "mid-day,  and  the  sun  was 
intensely  hot ;  we  therefore  looked  out  for'  a  shady  spot,  and  reposed 
under  a  very  large  fig-tree,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  rivulet  of  sweet  water 
gushed  out  from  beneath  the  rocks,  and  fell  into  the  lake  at  one  hundred 
paces  distant."  In  a  similar  manner  Hasselquist  observes,  "  We  refreshed 
ourselves  under  the  shade  of  a  fig-tree,  under  which  was  a  well,  where  a 
shepherd  and  his  herd  had  their  rendezvous,  but  without  either  house 
or  hut." 

This  "  sitting  every  man  under  his  fig-tree"  might  thus  well  become  an 
almost  proverbial  expression  to  denote  domestic  peace  and  security,  and 
accordingly  we  find  it  often  made  use  of  in  Scripture :  for  instance, 

1  Kings  iv.  25,  where  the  prosperity  of  Solomon's  reign  is  described,  and 

2  Kings  xviii.  31,  where  the  same  idea  occurs  in  Eabshakeh's  specious 
address  to  the  Jewish  people. 

Solomon  protected  every  man  in  the  possession  and  enjoyment  of  his 
own  propert3\  They  sat  under  the  shadow  and  ate  the  fruit  of  their  own 
fig-trees ;  peace  and  plenty  were  the  universal  charactei'istics  of  his  wise 
government.  But  this  happy  state  of  things  was  doubtless  symbolical 
of  a  far  happier  one  —  that  kingdom  of  "righteousness,  peace,  and  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost"  which  Christ's  subjects  shall  enjoy  when  they  shall 
sit  down  under  his  shadow  with  great  delight.  This  coming  of  Christ 
to  establish  his  church  was  the  secret  support  of  his  people  in  all  times, 
and  illumined  the  holy  prospects  of  prophetic  vision ;  as  that  future  day 
which  was   to   bring  the  Immauuel  upon  the  scene  of  his  wonderful 


38  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

achievements,  was  glanced  at  with  more  or  less  distinctness  by  all  the 
gifted  teachers  of  the  people,  who  saw  the  promises  afar  oft'.  Thus  we 
see  in  Canticles  ii.  the  happiness  of  Ilis  spouse,  the  church,  in  looking 
forward  to  the  glorious  consummation  of  her  espousals  with  the  great 
Bridegroom,  when,  in  allusion  to  the  long  j^eriod  of  conflict  which  was 
to  precede  it,  he  thus  addresses  her  —  "Rise  up,  my  dove,  my  fair  one, 
and  come  away.  For  lo,  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone ; 
the  flowers  appear  on  the  earth ;  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come ; 
the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land ;  the  fig-tree  putteth  forth  her 
green  figs,  and  the  vines  with  the  tender  grape  give  a  good  smell." 

The  wintry  storms  Lave  passed  away, 

And  welcome  spring  again  is  nigh; 
The  sun,  with  bright  and  cheering  ray, 

Begins  his  cloudless  course  on  high. 

The  waking  flowers  forth  issue,  glad 

The  renovating  call  to  meet; 
And  in  their  goodliest  garments  clad, 

Salute  him  with  their  incense  sweet. 

The  vine  puts  on  her  best  array. 

To  woo  us  to  an  earthly  bound; 
The  figs  their  verdant  vest  display. 

The  turtle  gives  her  plaintive  sound. 

But  rise,  my  soul,  and  haste  away, 

For  thee  there  waits  a  scene  more  bright; 

Let  nothing  earthly  force  thy  stay, 
Or  interrupt  thy  upward  flight. 

Oh,  waken  from  thy  carnal  trance, 

In  dull  oblivion  no  more  lie; 
See,  see  a  fairer  spring  advance. 

The  daughter  of  a  purer  sky. 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  39 

Pliny  tells  us  tliat  "  the  fruit  of  tlio  fig-tree  is  the  best  food  that  can 
be  taken  by  those  who  have  been  brought  low  by  long  sickness  and  are 
on  the  recovery,"  which  accounts  for  the  fact  narrated  in  1  Sam.  xxx. 
11,  12,  that  when  an  Egyptian  was  found  fainting  in  the  field,  "  a  piece 
of  a  cake  of  figs"  was  added  to  the  bread  and  water  which  David  com- 
manded to  be  given  him.  We  are  also  told  by  the  same  authority  that 
the  fig  is  often  employed  in  external  applicjitions  as  plasters ;  and  in 
2  Kings  XX.  7,  we  read  that  the  prophet  Isaiah  was  commanded  to  take 
a  lump  of  figs  and  to  lay  it  upon  Ilezekiah's  boil,  with  a  gracious  pro- 
mise of  recovery  to  the  sufferer.  A  word,  indeed,  from  the  great  Physi- 
cian might  have  carried  as  much  healing  power  as  the  fig :  but  in  most 
instances  of  God's  gracious  aid  afforded  to  man,  it  seems  to  have  been 
his  purpose  to  direct  his  attention  and  activity  to  the  use  of  moans,  and 
to  forbid  that  waiting  for  supernatural  succour  which  might  have 
furnished  an  excuse  for  idleness  and  ease. 

Pliny  celebrates  the  African  fig ;  and  that  there  were,  as  some  travellers 
tell  us,  "  divers  sorts  known  in  Africa,"  seems  confirmed  by  an  anecdote 
recorded  in  Roman  history.  It  is  said,  that  when  Cato  wished  to  excite 
the  Roman  senators  to  declare  war  against  Carthage,  he  took  an  early 
African  fig  in  his  hand,  and  thus  addressed  them  :  —  "I  would  ask  you 
how  long  it  is  since  this  fig  was  gathered  from  the  tree  ?"  And  when 
they  replied  it  was  fresh  gathered  —  "Yes,"  said  he,  "it  is  not  yet  three 
days  since  this  was  gathered  at  Carthage,  and  by  it  we  see  how  near  the 
walls  of  the  city  we  have  a  mortal  enemy."  From  the  story  of  Cleopatra, 
again,  we  may  infer  that  there  was  a  kind  growing  in  Egypt  fit  for  the 
table  of  that  luxurious  queen,  as  the  fatal  asp  was  conveyed  to  her  in  a 
basket  of  figs. 

That  the  sycamore  yielded  the  commoner  fruit,  which  grew  by  the 
wayside  both  in  Palestine  and  Egypt,  seems  peculiarly  worthy  of  remark, 
as  throwing  light  upon  a  passage  in  the  gospel  history  which  has 
puzzled  commentators.  In  Matthew  xxi.  19,  20,  our  blessed  Lord  is 
described  as  looking  for  fruit  on  a  fig-tree  at  a  time  which  St.  Mark 


40  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTE  11  TAINMENT 

admits  was  not  scasouable.  "  The  time  of  tigs,"  he  says,  "  was  not  yet," 
(about  the  latter  end  of  IMarch,  according  to  chronologists).  Our  Lord 
then  proceeded  to  denounce  a  curse  upon  this  barren  fig-tree,  which 
speedily  withered  away,  typifying  the  doom  passed  on  the  Jewish 
church,  which,  though  adorned  with  the  green  leaf  of  profession,  was 
not  enriclied  witli  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit.  ISTow,  if  we  suppose  the  figs 
sought  for  by  our  Lord  to  be  that  inferior  sort  produced  by  the  sycamore, 
the  description  given  of  it  by  travellers  seems  to  account  for  the  Saviour's 
ex]iectatiou.  Dr.  ISTorden  observes  that  the  tree  grows  commonly  by  the 
road-side,  and  in  that  case  cannot  be  considered  private  property ;  that  it 
is  always  green  and  bears  fruit  several  times  in  the  year  without  observ- 
ing any  certain  seasons.  "  For  I  have  seen,"  says  this  traveller,  "  some 
sycamores  which  had  fruit  two  mouths  after  others.  The  fruit  has  the 
figure  and  smell  of  real  figs,  but  is  inferior  to  them  in  taste,  having  an 
unpleasant  sweetness.  Its  colour  is  yellow,  inclining  to  flosh-colour ;  in 
the  inside  it  resembles  the  common  fig.  The  common  peojilo  of  Egypt 
live  on  its  fruit.  The  tree  being  always  green,  pei'sons  at  a  distance 
cannot  readily  determine  whether  it  has  fruit  on  it  or  not."  "Whether 
we  accept  this  explanation  or  not,  the  spiritual  meaning  of  the  parable 
is  obvious.  All  professing  membere  of  Christ's  Church  are  fig-trees  in 
the  vinej'ard ;  all  are  leafy ;  few  are  fruitful.  By  leaves  may  be  aptly 
represented  mere  words,  sterile  desires,  formal  outward  performances ; 
whereas  fruits  are  the  graces  of  the  Spirit  —  "love,  joy,  peace,  long- 
suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness,  and  temperance,"  shown 
forth  in  a  holy  and  consistent  life.  May  we,  by  the  goodness  of  God, 
abound  in  the  latter,  and  so  escape  the  denunciation  which  is  addressed 
against  the  former. 

"Ah!   where  is  that  green  leafy  show 
That  promised  such  fruit  to  bestow? 
It  is  gone  —  and  the  tree,  too,  is  dried  up  and  gone; 
And  how  was  the  work  so  decisively  done 
Tliut  forbad  it  for  ever  to  grow  ? 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  41 

It  wa3  not  the  tempest,  ■when  wide 

It  scatters  the  dark  forest  pride, 

At  the  bidding  of  Ilim  whom  the  tempests  obey; 

But  it  was  that  swift  word  which  had  only  to  say, 

Die,  profitless  tree  !  —  and  it  died. 


And  so  will  fresh  piety  shoot. 

With  the  leafy  precursors  of  fruit; 

But  I  've  seen  the  leaves  fill,  and  the  branches  decay, 

And  the  fuir-budding  promises  wither  away, 

From  the  failure  of  life  at  the  root.  , 


I  have  seen  the  ambitious  house  fall, 

Though  the  cedar  had  built  up  its  wall; 

Prosperity  blasted,  and  beauty  decay, 

And  the  pageants  of  this  world  all  passing  away; 

To  their  graves  I  have  followed  them  all. 


I  have  seen,  too,  the  humble  man  fill 

His  station  unnoticed  and  still. 

While  fixed  was  his  lot  in  this  turmoil  of  dust ; 

But  his  branches  were  moistened  with  dew,  as  his  trust 

Shot  upwards  to  God's  holy  hill. 


And  a  sweet  emanation  around, 

To  the  root  an  unseen  passage  found, 

And  it  seemed  as  if  sometimes  a  secret  supply 

Dropped  invisibly  down  from  the  cloudless  blue  sky, 

And  solaced  the  plant  underground." 


42  1'  0  II  T  F  0  L  I  0    OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

f  tssnns  bn  tlu  .§t;isii)t. 

"  Iluman  life  is  often  compared  to  the  ocean  ;  and  the  sons  of  men  are  voyagers  to  eternity.  Their 
successive  generations,  like  the  mountain  billows,  are  driven  onward  by  the  same  agency,  and  dashed 
upon  the  same  shore  j  and  the  various  characters  and  circumstances  of  men  may  find  some  striking 
illustration  in  the  changing  states  and  aspects  of  the  mighty  deep." 

^Tvcy^  HERE  is,  i^erhaps,  no  object  in  creation  more  calcu- 
\'  lated  to  inspire  the  fallen  children  of  the  dust  with  an 
overwhelming  feeling  of  their  own  insignificance  than 
is  a  view  of  the  wide  expanse  of  waters.  It  inspires 
the  thoughtful  with  exalted  ideas  of  the  power  and 
majesty  of  the  Creator  of  the  universe,  and  suggests 
humiliating  views  of  themselves.  On  a  recent  visit  to  the  sea-coast,  the 
writer,  as  he  beheld  the  sea  under  various  aspects,  indulged  in  a  serious 
reverie. 

The  surges  were  dashing  upon  the  beach,  and  the  rude  breakers  prac- 
tising their  wild  gambols  as  they  rolled  in  upon  the  shore.  The  surf 
reared  its  head  as  a  last  effort,  and  piled  up  its  dark  waters,  lifting  above 
them  its  white  crest,  glittering  in  the  sunbeams,  then  died  upon  the 
shore. 

I  looked,  and  I  thougM  of  Him  who  gave  to  the  sea  its  bounds,  and 
said,  "Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  but  no  further;  and  here  shall  the  pride 
of  thy  waves  be  stayed  ;" — of  Him  who  commanded  the  winds  and  the 
waves,  "Be  still ;  and  there  was  a  great  calm."'  I  thought  —  in  the  sea 
of  life  the  storm  rageth ;  the  tempests  riot  wildly.  The  wicked  world, 
like  the  troubled  sea,  is  continually  casting  up  mire  and  dirt,  jealousy 
and  anger,  hatred  and  falsehood,  all  impurity ;  "  There  is  no  peace  to 
the  wicked,  saith  my  God."  But  God,  who  can  control  the  raging 
waves  of  the  deep,  can  by  his  grace  subdue  the  passions  of  men,  and  say 
to  the  troubled  soul,  "Peace;  be  still"  "Come  unto  me,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest ;"  and  there  is  no  rest  for  any  out  of  Christ. 


A  X  D    I X  s  T  R  r  C  T  I  0  X  .  43 

"  They  shall  fiuj  rest  tliat  learn  of  me, 
I'm  of  a  meek  and  lowly  miud; 
But  passion  rages  like  the  sea, 

And  pride  is  restless  as  the  wind." 

IIow  long  has  this  ocean  rolled  ou  iu  its  might !  The  storm  lias,  times 
without  number,  deeply  agitated  and  swept  over  its  surface.  IIow  many 
have  stood  on  its  shores,  and  listened  to  the  "deep  bass  of  nature's 
anthem,"  as  the  winds  and  waves  mingled  their  voices  together  !  Here 
once  stood  the  proud  Roman,  and  heard  in  its  ceaseless  roar  the  thunders 
of  the  "God  of  the  sea;"  here  once  stood  a  tower  of  defence,  but  the 
waves  have  levelled  it  with  the  shore ;  and  ancient  cities  lie  upon  its 
coast  in  ruins ;  j'et  the  ocean  bears  no  traces  of  age  or  decaj'.  Buried 
beneath  the  beach  are  the  dwellings,  the  coins,  and  implements  of  our 
ancestors.  But  the  fathers,  where  are  they  ?  The  place  which  knew 
thorn  knows  them  no  more ;  and  soon  those  happy  groups,  now  rambling 
on  the  beach,  full  of  life  and  activity,  and  buoyant  with  hope  and  joy, 
will  pass  away;  others  will  take  their  places,  gaze  on  this  glorious  scene, 
and  die;  but  onward  these  waters  will  swell  and  flow,  and  these  wild 
billows  sing  their  requiem  over  the  dead,  till  the  period  shall  arrive 
when  there  shall  be  no  more  sea.  Here,  thought  I,  is  an  apt  illustration  of 
the  fleeting  nature  of  all  things  earthl}^  The  sea  shall  be  dried  up ;  the 
earth,  with  all  its  troubles  and  commotions  will  then  have  passed  away ; 
true  Christians  will  be  entirel}'  free  from  conflicting  passions,  tempta- 
tions, troubles,  changes  and  alarms,  and  from  whatever  can  divide  or 
interrupt  the  communion  of  saints.  "  There  renuiineth  a  rest  to  the 
people  of  God."    Reader,  when  there  is  no  more  sea,  where  wilt  thou  bo  ? 

"  See  that  your  peace  with  God  be  made, 
Ere  you  are  summoned  to  the  dead 
Who  warn  you  —  'Yesterday  was  auis ; 
To-day  is   >/oiirs: 
Be  steadfast :  this  your  all  secures.'  " 


44 


PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTEnTAINMENT 


"  There  go  tlio  ships."  Far  out  upon  the  deep  I  saw  the  lesseuiuo- 
sails  of  nian}^  a  gallant  ship,  soon  to  vanish  from  my  sight.  IIow  many 
anxious  thoughts  accompany  them,  and  probably  not  a  few  prayers 
ascend  to  heaven  for  their  safe  conduct  over  the  watery  element.  I  looked 
and  I  tJiougltt  —  wives  and  mothers  will  watch  with  eagerness  the  gather- 


^ 


ing  cloud,  and  as  they  hoar  the  howling  tempest,  will  tremble  and  fear 
for  those  they  love,  tossed  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep,  and  will  anxiously 
long  for  the  hour  when  they  shall  be  restored  to  their  kindred  and  their 
home.  There  may  be  one  reading  these  pages  who  has  recently  left  his 
home  to  do  business  on  the  great' waters  of  life.  How  many  thoughts 
follow  thee,  young  friend !  how  many  eyes  are  fixed  on  thee !  how  many 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  45 

prayers  ascend  for  a  prosperous  voyage  !  Thou  hast  left,  perliaps,  a  quiet 
village,  for  the  turmoil  and  hustle  of  city  life.  It  may  be  that  the  prayers 
of  pious  parents  and  friends  ascend  on  thy  behalf,  for  thy  preservation 
from  the  temptations  by  which  thou  mayst  be  surrounded,  and  the  assaults 
of  the  adversary  to  which  thou  mayst  be  exposed.  Young  friend,  pray  for 
thyself,  "My  Father,  be  thou  the  Guide  of  my  youth ;  lead  me  in  a  plain 
path,  and  teach  me,  because  of  mine  enemies."  Cry  unto  the  Lord, 
"Hold  thou  me  up,  and  I  shall  be  safe  —  guide  me,  and  I  shall  not  err." 

"  In  every  changing  scene  of   life, 
Whato'cr  that  scene  may  be, 
Give  me  a  meek  and  humble  mind, 
A  mind  at  peace  with  thee." 

At  some  distance  from  the  shore  lay  a  wreck  imbedded  in  the  sand ; 
the  waves  were  breaking  around  and  over  it,  and  on  its  huge  timbers 
was  hanging  a  mantle  of  weeds.  I  looked,  and  I  thougld  —  Had  that 
desolate  wreck  a  tongue,  what  an  eventful  story  would  it  relate.  We 
should  be  told  of  the  care  and  expense  attending  its  construction — how 
nobly  she  first  glided  into  her  destined  element  amidst  the  cheers  of 
spectators.  She  was  fitted,  and,  laden  with  a  rich  freight,  set  sail,  and 
for  a  while  resisted  the  storm  and  the  tempest.  *  *  *  ^pjiji 
landsman  reposed  peacefully  upon  his  pillow,  and  as  the  voice  of  the 
storm  howled  around  his  casement,  felt  only  a  pleasing  sense  of  his  own 
security.  But  that  noble  vessel  felt  its  power  and  succumbed  to  its  fury. 
A  fearful  crash  announced  her  fate,  and  cast  forth  those  who  had  trusted 
to  her  to  battle  with  raging  billows,  either  to  find  a  watery  grave,  or 
bruised  and  breathless  to  reach  the  shore. 

Is  there  not  a  counterpart  to  this  in  the  moral  world  ?  In  the  circle 
of  fashion  and  dissijiation,  how  many  whose  lives  commenced  with  the 
fairest  prospects,  and  on  whom  the  fondest  hopes  centred,  have  made 
shipwreck  of  character,  and,  like  this  broken  vessel,  have  left  a  ragged 
bi'okcu  wi'cck  to  tell  a  sad  and  impressive  story.     "  Oh  that  men  were 


4G  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

wise  that  tliey  uuderstoocl  this,  that  they  would  consider  their  hitter 
end !" 

The  shadows  of  evening  fell  wpon  those  waters,  and  the  quiet  stars 
peeped  from  their  hiding-places.  The  breakers,  lighted  up  with  phosplio- 
reseent  flashes,  rolled  in  fire-waves  upon  the  rocks.  High  above  those 
troubled  waters,  shone  the  bright  light  of  tliat  "  faithful  sentinel  which, 
amidst  storms  and  darkness,  stands  to  keep  watch  for  tlie  sailors.     1 


Vr^^ 


hoJceiJ,  and  I  tJiougJit  —  So  shines  the  lamp  of  God's  wora  over  the 
troubled  sea  of  life,  and  he  who  fixes  his  eye  upon  it,  and  is  guided  by 
it,  shall  be  safely  conducted  to  the  haven  of  peace.  "  Thy  word  is  a 
lamp  unto  my  feet,  and  a  light  unto  my  path."  "  Thou  shalt  guide  me 
by  thy  counsel." 

Night  let  fall  her  sable  mantle,  spangled  with  stars.  Hooked,  and  my 
iliouglits  went  upivards  to  Him  who  rolls  the  stars  in  their  courses.  Tell 
mc  thou  in  whose  heart  is  written  the  dreadful  words,  "No  God,"  by 
what  power  do  these  waters  roll?  —  who  gave  to  the  sea  its  bounds? 
Gaze  upon  that  splendid  canopy  above  your  head,  the  glorious  throne 
of  the  Invisible,  and  say,  Is  not  the  hand  of  Omnipotence  in  all  this  ? 
"  Learnest  thou  no  lesson  of  thine  own  insignificance,  and  of  his  wisdom 
and  power?     Is  no  desire  awakened  in  thy  bosom  to  acquaint  thyself 


A  N  D     I  N  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  47 

■\vitli  liini  and  be  at  peace?  That  mighty  ocean,  whose  surges  are 
breaking  at  thy  feet,  is  his  workmanship,  and  obeys  his  voice.  Its 
magnitude  and  unchanging  character  is  but  a  faint  image  of  his  infini- 
tude and  immutability."  Canst  thou  doubt,  when  every  voice  that 
meets  thine  ear  proclaims  the  power  and  glory,  the  wisdom  and  love  of 
thy  Creator  —  thy  God?  Wilt  thou  not  joiu  in  the  chorus  which  the 
heavens,  and  the  earth,  and  sea  are  singing?  Look,  we  implore  you, 
upon  the  works  of  God,  and  think,  and  may  thy  thoughts  be  toward 
thy  God;  "acquaint  thyself  with  him;  look  to  him  in  faith  and  love, 
who,  though,  infinite  in  might  and  majesty,  will  dwell  in  the  heart  of 
the  humble  and  contrite.  He  alone  can  say,  "Peace,  be  still,"  to  a 
troubled  conscience  —  in  his  favour  is  life.  If  thou  wilt  despise  his  love, 
and  thinl<:  liglit  of  his  power,  and  doubt  his  existence  —  the  day  shall 
declare  it;  for,  at  his  bidding,  the  heavens  and  the  earth  shall  flee  away, 
and  there  shall  be  no  more  sea,  but  thou  canst  not  be  annihilated ;  thy 
soul  shall  never  die,  but,  unsaved,  shall  be  cast  into  depths  of  eternal 
agitation,  where  there  shall  be  weeping,  and  wailing,  and  gnashing  of 
teeth.  "Flee  from  the  wrath  to  come."  "In  me,"  says  a  compassion- 
ate Saviour,  "ye  shall  have  peace."  Christ  Jesus  died  to  save  sinners 
—  Eepeut,  believe,  and  live. 


48 


PORTFOLIO     OF    E N T E E T A I N M E N T 


%\t  glummii  MHat. 


MON'G  the  marvels  of  the  natural  world,  few 
things  are  more  surprising  than  the  fact  that  some 
seeds  are  capable  of  retaining  the  principle  of 
vitality  unimpaired  for  centuries.  Of  late  years  we 
have  had  abundant  examples  of  grains  of  corn,  whose 
living  germs,  after  having  lain  dormant  during 
the  revolutions  of  kingdoms,  the  change  of  dynas- 
ties, the  extiuction  of  languages,  and  the  transfer  of  the  great  seats  of 
civilization,  learning,  and  commerce,  have  germinated  and  sprouted, 
and  given  birth  to  abundant  harvests,  whose  increase  is  now  feeding 
the  children  of  men  in  the  present  generation.  Many  of  these  wondrous 
seeds  have  been  taken  from  the  mud-lining  of  the  mummy  cases  of 
Thebes,  where  they  were  interred  at  least  two  thousand  years  ago. 


Behold  how  pleasant  to  the  eye 
Yon  waving  corn  appears; 

The  slender  stalks  swayed  to  and  fro 
Beneath  the  golden  ears. 

Strange  is  the  story  of  the  seed 
That  first  was  planted  there; 

How  marvellous  the  withered  grain 
"An  hundred-fold"  should  bear! 


Within  a  silent  tomb  it  passed 

A  lapse  of  ages  slow, 
Bound  in  a  dark  Egyptian's  hand 

Three  thousand  years  ago. 


ANDINSTRliCTION.  49 

rortrayod  upon  tho  massive  walls 

Might  all  his  deeds  be  viewed, 
But  none  had  ever  yet  disturbed 

The  awful  solitude. 

At  length  within  the  sculptured  cell 

A  stranger  dared  to  tread  ; 
And  lo !    with  sacrilegious  Lands, 

He  stole  the  ancient  dead. 

Far  from  the  gorgeous  sepulchre 

He  bore  his  prize  away, 
Till  here  on  distant  ground  he  laid 

His  venerable  prey. 

With  careful  fingers  he  removed 

The  swathings  one  by  one, 
And  gazed  at  last  upon  the  form 

Of   Egypt's  swarthy  son. 

And  straight  arose  the  fragrant  scent 

Of  spices,  oils,  and  balm. 
And  grains  of  corn  went  rolling  down 

From  off   the  blackened  palm  ;  — 

Grains  that  perchance  were  treasured  up 

In  Canaan's  time  of   dearth ; 
Dry  as  they  were,  we  planted  them. 

In  hope,  beneath  the  earth. 

The  gentle  rain  of   heaven  came  down. 

And  soft  refreshing  dew ; 
The  mummy-wheat  their  influence  felt, 

Awoke  to  life,  and  grew. 


,^0  PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTERTAINMENT 

And  lo  !    the  springing  blades  came  forth, 
As  tender,  fresh,  and  green. 

As  though  the  parent  grain  last  year 
Within  the  car  had  been. 

And  now  the  tall   and  fragile  stem 
Its  graceful  head  uprears ; 

And  see  !  within  the  bursting  husk,   • 
The  yellow  corn  appears. 

"  Come  hither,  ye  whose  patient  hands 

"Beside  all  waters"  sow; 
The  lovely  crop  ye  long  to  view 
In  God's  good  time  will  grow. 

In  faith  and  hope  a  mother  taught 
Her  lisping  babe  to  pray; 

The  seed  she  planted  in  his  heart 
Sprang  when  his   head  was  gray. 

Go  forth  with  courage;    still  your  bread 

Upon  the  waters  cast; 
Tho'  vainly  sought  for  many  days, 

It  shall  be  found  at  last. 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  51 


6Iimps(s  of  the  IHlgiiiii  liitlrtrs. 

S>^<g^^'-     TT7A-RT7TTT  +1,^  t^.^Jq,.  (j,jee„,  was  gathered  to  her 


*^>f ffsT^T     LIZABETH,  the  Tu 
^  5, .^     V  J,,      lathers,  and  James,  tl 


■'^Sf)^ {v'^'  J,'      fathers,  and  James,  the  first  of  the  Stuarts,  sat  upon 

^'i:^^^t^     \      *^"^  English  throne.    Clinging  with  violent  pertinacity 

''   iC'l"      '^'"O'l     to  the  prejudices  and  prerogatives  of  his  predecessor, 

■35-»t, --i_,A*^4--   lio  subjected  every  one  of  his  subjects  who  claimed 

'  '  ''   '  liberty  of  conscience  to  the  penalty  of  rebels. 

Barrow  and  Greenwood,  with  a  rope  round  their  necks,  had  been,  at 
the  close  of  the  late  reign,  hung  at  Tyburn.  I'erry,  that  true  hearted 
young  Welshman,  leaving  a  widow  and  j'onng  children,  laid  his  martyr- 
head  on  the  scaffold ;  and  in  his  dying  address  to  his  distressed  brethren, 
lie  seems  to  have  anticipated  the  fact  that,  since  England  aiforded  the 
hand  of  worsliippers  no  asylum,  they  must  leave  England,  and  seek  in 
foreign  lands  that  privilege  which  their  own  country  denied.  ^lany 
fled  to  Holland  as  a  place  of  refuge.  But  they  were  exiles  still;  the}' 
never  forgot  this  fact.  Many  waters  cannot  quench  the  love  of  country, 
and  ofttimes  the  pilgrims  sighed  for  home  scenes,  dear  from  many  a  fond 
association. 

America  was  already  a  land  of  promise,  and  A'irginia  owned  the  same 
king  as  England ;  and  to  the  new  world,  therefore,  they  turned  their 
pilgrim  feet.  Their  property  was  sold  and  converted  into  a  common 
stock  —  not,  as  some  historians  have  asserted,  under  any  "wild  idea  of 
imitating  the  primitive  Christians,"  but  as  an  arrangement  into  which 
the}'  were  forced  by  the  nature  of  their  negotiations  with  the  English 
company  of  merchants. 

A  small  vessel  of  60  tons  was  bought  accordingly,  and  in  this,  the 
Speedwell,  the  dopiitation  who  had  been  to  England  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  the  new  colony,  returned  when  their  business  was  completed. 
A  patent  had  been  obtained,  securing  to  the  emigrants  civil  rights,  and 


bZ  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

liberty  of  worf^lilp,  and  in  addition  to  the  Speedwell,  the  Mayjloivcr,  a 
vessel  of  180  tons,  was  also  purehased. 

But  only  a  minority  of  the  Le3-den  congregation  could  find  accommo- 
dation in  the  limited  space,  and  Robinson,  among  others,  remained 
behind.  It  was  a  solemn  hour  when  the  departing  band  received  their 
leader's  farewell  blessing.  Nearly  the  whole  of  the  English  exiles  — 
old  men,  women,  and  little  children  — met  together  at  Delft  Haven  to 
see  the  ship  sail,  and  beautifully  instructive  was  Robinson's  last  charge. 
"Brethren,"  he  said,  "we  are  now  quickly  to  part  from  one  another, 
and  whether  I  may  live  to  see  your  faces  on  earth  again,  the  God  of 
heaven  only  knows ;  but  I  charge  you  before  God  and  his  blessed  angels, 
that  you  follow  me  no  further  than  you  have  seen  me  fijUuw  tlio  Lord 
Jesus  Christ." 

And  thus  they  parted ;  a  small  and  feeble  company  were  committed 
to  the  great  ocean,  and  to  the  untried  world  bej'ond,  not  for  fame,  not 
for  wealth,  not  for  discover}',  but  for  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion, 
they  went  forth,  and  many  a  soul  wished  them  God  speed.  As  the 
vessel  left  the  shore,  the  venerable  Robinson  knelt  down  by  the  water's 
edge,  and  with  folded  hands,  and  heart  lifted  up  to  heaven,  prayed  for 
a  blessing  upon  his  scattered  flock.  A  prosperous  gale  soon  wafted 
them  to  Southampton,  and  in  a  fortnight  more  the  Mayflower  and  Speed- 
well left  the  shores  of  England  for  America.  But  when  already  on  the 
Atlantic,  the  smaller  vessel  was  found  to  need  repairs,  and  the  captain 
of  the  Speedwell,  alarmed  and  discouraged  at  the  outset,  abandoned  the 
enterprise,  and  they  were  compelled  once  more  to  put  back  to  Plymouth. 
The  timid  and  the  hesitating,  accordingly,  left  the  expedition,  and  soon 
the  little  Mayflower  with  its  decreased  band  of  emigrants,  one  luindred 
in  number,  was  seen  ploughing  ita  solitary  path  over  the  mighty  waters, 
whilst  He  whose  eye  is  on  the  deep  as  well  as  on  the  dry  land,  guided 
and  blessed  them  hy  the  way;  and  on  the  sixty-third  day  after  their 
embarkation  from  Plymouth,  the  anxious  watchers  on  deck  caught  a 
glimpse  of  laud  —  the  shore  of  the  new  world. 


A  N  D     I  N  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  X  .  53 

Tlio  first  glimpse  of  the  grceo  land  of  America  clieered  tlic  sinking 
liearts  of  the  pilgrims.  The  waving  woods,  which  belted  even  the 
ocean's  brink,  caused  them  to  rejoice  together,  and  praise  God  for  his 
,  mercies.  What  a  siglit  it  must  have  been  for  man  (we  feel  assured  that 
angels  rejoiced)  when  the  poor  exiles'  lirst  act  on  reaching  the  shore  was 
to  kneel  down  and  thank  God  for  his  mercies  !  But  they  were  not  yet 
arrived  at  their  journey's  end.  It  was  in  the  south,  even  at  the  mouth 
of  the  lludsou  river,  that  they  had  resolved  to  settle ;  and,  whether  by 
accident  or  treachery,  the  captain  frustrated  their  intention  in  the  first 
instance,  and  set  them  on  shore  on  a  far  less  civilized  and  inviting  spot. 
After  again  putting  out  to  sea,  the  ship  was  so  entangled  amidst  shoals 
and  breakers  that  they  were  compelled,  on  the  second  day,  to  put  back 
to  Cape  Cod ;  and  impatient  of  delay,  it  being  by  this  time  the  middle 
of  Xovcmber,  the  captain  declared  his  intention  of  returning,  so  that 
tlie  emigrants  had  no  alternative  but  to  remain  at  the  Cape. 

Soon  the  Mayflower  was  to  set  sail  and  to  leave  the  pilgrims  on  the 
strand.  On  tlie  one  side  was  the  great  Atlantic,  on  the  other  the 
unknown  wilderness ;  but  above,  and  around,  and  in  their  hearts,  love 
to  God  and  one  another.     Elements  of  jiaradise  these  ! 

The  calculations  and  plans  of  man  are  oftentimes,  in  mercy  and 
wisdom,  frustrated  by  the  great  Deviser  of  all  things.  Had  the  weak 
and  suffering  handful  of  exiles  been  permitted  to  carry  out  their  origi- 
nal design  of  settling  near  the  Hudson,  they  would,  in  all  probability, 
defenceless  as  they  were,  have  fallen  by  the  hands  of  the  red  Indian 
tribes  who  populated  the  vast  savaunahs  of  the  river.  But  from  this 
danger  they  were  rescued  on  the  bleak  coast  of  New  England.  The  first 
of  the  natives  with  whom  the  pilgrims  held  any  intelligible  intercourse 
was  Samoset,  an  Indian  of  the  Wampanoags,  who  had  picked  up  a  few 
English  words  from  the  fishermen  who  came  to  that  shore  for  cod ;  anil 
from  him  they  learned  that  the  land  was  indeed  desolate,  a  great  pesti- 
lence having  nearly  depopulated  the  district,  and  that  free  scope  was 
open  to  the  projects  of  the  white  men.     It  now  only  remained  to  take 


54  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

possession.  Exploring  parties,  following  the  Indian  trail,  tracked  the 
wild  woods,  and  one  of  their  journalists  at  length  notes :  "After  a  long 
and  devious  ramble,  about  ten  o'clock  we  came  into  a  deepe  valley  fall 
of  brush,  wood  gaile,  and  long  grasse,  through  which  we  found  little 
paths  or  tracks,  and  there  we  saw  a  deere  and  found  springs  of  fresh 
w^ater,  of  which  we  were  heartily  glad,  and  sat  us  downe  and  drunke  our 
first  New  England  water  as  heartily  as  ever  we  drunke  driuke  in  all 
our  lives." 

On  one  of  these  occasions  the  new  settlers  found  a  little  path  loading 
to  heaps  of  sand,  into  which  they  dug,  and  found  but  the  decaying  bow 
and  arrows  of  an  Indian  warrior,  one  of  the  last  of  his  race ;  and  they 
digged  in  various  others  to  find,  alas  !  nothing  else  but  graves. 

The  first  of  Decenaber  dawned.  Many  a  one  in  that  band  remembered 
the  yule  logs  of  the  old  world,  and  as  yet  they  were  only  among  graves ;  no 
home,  no  shelter,  was  provided  against  the  chilling  blast  of  an  American 
winter.  One  treasure,  however,  they  found  in  one  of  these  Indian  sepul- 
chres, even  "  a  little  old  basket,  full  of  faire  Indian  corn,"  which  was, 
they  said,  a  goodly  sight;  a  treasure,  indeed,  of  greater  worth  tliau  a 
mine  of  gold  dust  in  their  position. 

The  poor  shallop  which  was  left  them  had  been  so  injured  by  her 
voyage  between  the  decks  of  the  vessel,  that  she  had  to  be  repaired,  and 
when  this  was  accomplished.  Carver,  Bradford,  Winslow,  and  Standish 
set  out  to  explore  the  shores  of  the  jSTew  World,  and  fix  on  the  spot  of 
their  final  settlement. 

But  the  season  was  far  advanced.  Eude  gusts  of  wind  dashed  the 
spray  about  the  voyagers ;  whilst  those  on  shore,  one  morning  during 
their  absence,  were  greeted  on  awaking  by  the  wild  war-whoop  of  the 
Indians,  and  a  flight  of  arrows  at  the  same  moment  gave  notice  of  an 
attack.  A  wandering  tribe,  cherishing  bitter  hatred  to  the  English,  had 
stolen  upon  them  ;  but  they  stood  to  arms,  and  no  harm  ensued.  In  the 
meantime,  the  exploring  party  were  driven  on  a  small  island  late  one 
Saturday,  and  being  the  last  day  of  the  week,  they  dried  their  stuff, 


AND     I  N  S  T  11  L'  C  T  ION.  56 

fired  tbeir  pieces,  returned  tliaiili;s  for  deliverance,  and  resolved  here  to 
keep  the  first  Christian  Sabbath. 

Time  was  pressing ;  it  was  the  9th  of  December ;  the  cold  M'as  piercing, 
and  they  were  yet  homeless;  but,  all  honour  to  the  religion  of  the  onuii- 
present  God,  they  knew  that  He  whom  they  serv'ed  could  hear  the  hymn 
of  praise  and  the  voice  of  prayer  among  the  pines  of  the  forest,  as  Avell 
as  in  the  aisle  of  the  cathedral ;  and  thus  they  kept  the  Sabbath. 

On  ^londay  they  sounded  the  harbour,  and,  after  being  satisfied  with 
its  safety,  and  finding  corn-fields  and  little  running  brooks,  they  returned 
to  the  expectant  people  they  had  left  behind,  and  gladdened  their  anxious 
hearts  by  their  re-appearance. 

The  day  on  which  the  pilgrim  fiithers  landed  at  Plymouth  is  yet 
marked  by  religious  services  in  i^ew  England,  and  is  called  by  the  simple 
appellation  of  "  Forefathers'  day."  Plymouth  was  the  name  given  to 
the  new  settlement  by  the  exiled  Englishmen. 

The  month  of  December  was  over.  The  enrigrants  sufiered  terribly 
from  coughs,  a)id  it  became  imperative  to  provide  etMcient  shelter  for  the 
weaker  and  more  atfiicted  of  the  band.  Wood  was  cut  down  accordingly, 
in  the  intervals  between  the  storms.  A  rising  ground  was  chosen  as  the 
site  of  the  new  city,  an  eminence  commanding  a  magnificent  view  both 
of  sea  and  land. 

But  wives,  mothers,  and  sisters  were  there,  and  something  like  family 
joy  might  have  been  felt  through  that  dreary  winter,  had  not  death 
entered,  and  made  a  sad  blank  in  loving  hearts  and  beside  the  rude 
hearths.  Cai^ver,  the  governor  of  the  republic,  first  lost  his  son,  and 
soon  afterwards  he  was  himself  laid  in  the  same  grave,  the  first  dug  in 
the  wilderness.  Then  followed  the  widow;  and,  in  March,  Governor 
Bradford  records :  "  Thirteen  of  our  number  died ;  and,  in  three  months 
more,  out  of  one  hundred,  but  fifty  remained, — the  living  scarce  able  to 
bury  the  dead."  The  sailors,  too,  of  the  Mai/flotver,  which  had  still  lin- 
gered in  the  haven,  were  attacked,  and  half  the  company  died  before 
sailing;  but  they  yet  trusted  in  God,  and  he  delivered  them. 


56  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  X  T  t  R  T  A  I  N  JI  E  K  T 

But  the  pilgrim  fathers  hoped  on  ;  sickness  and  death  had  thinned 
their  ranks ;  grave  after  grave  was  dug  in  the  wilderness ;  yet  God 
was  above  all,  and  behind  the  cloud  the  sun  of  liis  blessing  was 
shining. 

Winter  was  over  and  gone,  the  south  wind  blew  softly,  and  the  forest- 
birds  mingled  their  notes  with  the  voice  of  the  pilgrims'  thanksgiving, 
when  one  da}'  an  Indian  came  to  their  little  citadel.  What,  however, 
must  have  been  the  joyful  relief  of  the  fearful  strangers,  to  hear  the  well- 
known  English  word  from  the  red  man's  lips  —  that  happy,  hopeful, 
home  word  —  "Welcome."  That  they  made  him  welcome,  there  can  be 
no  doubt.  They  gave  him  "strong  water"  (that,  however,  would  cer- 
tainly have  been  better  omitted),  biscuit,  butter,  cheese  and  pudding ; 
and  he,  in  return,  gave  them  much  valuable  information.  He  told  them 
that  they  had  nothing  to  dread  from  the  red  man. 

These  are  but  a  few  details  of  the  early  difficulties  and  struggles  of 
these  good  men.  By  degrees  some  of  their  troubles  passed  away,  and 
as  the  old  men  were  gatheied  as  shocks  of  corn  fully  ripe,  youth  and 
zeal  and  piety  took  their  vacant  places,  and  the  colony  flourished  and 
pi'Osj)ered.  Theirs  was  a  great  work.  Driven  from  their  native  land, 
theirs  was  the  honour  and  blessing  of  carrying  with  them  to  the  red 
Indian  the  indestructible  word  of  truth.  The  new  world  had  as  yet  seen 
little  of  the  Christianity  of  a  Christian  country.  Love  of  money  and  of 
gain,  but  not  of  God,  had  brought  the  first  colonists  to  America.  But  these 
men,  for  the  sake  of  Christ,  had  forsaken  all  and  followed  him ;  and  still 
is  the  memory  of  the  Pl^-mouth  pilgrims  present  as  an  example  or  warn- 
ing, not  to  their  descendants  alone,  but  to  many  a  settler,  from  the  St. 
Lawrence  to  Mexico.  The  swords  of  Carver  and  Elder  Brewster  are  still 
shown  to  the  visitor  by  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  and  at 
Boston  a  lineal  descendant  of  General  Winslow  preserves  the  portrait  of 
his  ancestor.  His  Bible,  too,  is  still  in  being  —  that  well-worn  Bible,  which 
must  have  been  to  the  good  man  a  very  well-spring  in  a  desert  —  a  rock 
on  an  ocean.     Trifles  are  these  relics,  but  they  are  precious  to  those  who 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  57 

venerate  the  character  of  the  pious  dead,  and  for  them  we  may  say, 
"Behold  their  record  is  on  high." 

The  pilgrim  fathers  are  now  at  rest,  but  the  Spirit  which  gnided  and 
sustained  them  is  still  ready  to  guide  and  strengthen  every  follower  of 
the  Saviour;  and  he  will  need  that  strength — never  douht  it  —  for  the 
world  is  a  battle-field,  and  without  the  whole  armour  of  God,  the  soldiers 
will  fall  in  the  conflict  and  the  world  will  bo  triumiihant. 


Cnmnuinion  luitlj  the  gnJr. 

Are  they  not  ministering  spirits? — Ueb.  i.  14. 

Some  are  dead  among  the  living, 

Some  alive  among  the  dead, 
Men  with  bodies  without  spirits, 

Spirits  from  the  body  sped  — 
Which,  my  soul,  shall  be  thy  portion, 

Sordid  flesh  or  spirit  free  ? 
Wilt  thou  join  this  world's  communion, 

Or  the  heavenly  company  ? 

Two  mysterious  processions  — 

See  them  as  they  sweep  in  sight, 
One  in  cerements  funereal. 

But  the  other  clothed  in  white  — 
One  with  weeping  and  with  wailing — ■ 

Let  their  words  fall  on  thy  car  — 
'•  We  did  choose  our  own  perdition, 

Called  lie,  but  we  would  not  hear. 


58  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

"  Came  lie  oft  to  us  entreating, 

But  we  closed  to  him  the  door, 
Closing  to  ourselves  sulvatioa 

Ever  and  for  ever  more." 
See  the  other,  as  in  meekness. 

Comes  it  singing  words  of   love  — 
"  We  were  sinners  all  unworthy. 

Saved  alone  by  gi"ace  above." 

0  !  the  lovely  and  the  gentle  ! 

0  !  the  loved  and  lost  below ! 
They  are  in  that  great  assembly. 

Calling  to  us  as  they  go  — 
"  Wilt  thou  not,  our  best  beloved. 

Come  with  us  in  company  ? 
Lingered  have  we,  lingered  for  you. 

Eor  your  ministey  are  we." 

For  from  the  assembly  blessed 

Of  the  dead  in  Christ  above, 
Ministering  spirits  sends  He 

To  the  scenes  of  earthly  love; 
To  the  friends  whom  they  love  dearest, 

So  that  by  the  mystic  hold 
Of  the  loved  dead  on  the  living 

He  may  draw  them  to  hb  fold. 

Some  are  dead  among  the  living. 

Some  alive  among  the  dead ; 
Men  with  bodies  without  spirits, 

Spirits  from  the  body  sped  — 
Which,  my  soul,  shall  be  thy  portion  — 

Sordid  flesh  or  spirit  free  — 
Choosest  thou  the  train  funereal  ? 

Or  the  heavenly  company  ? 


AND    INSTRUCTION. 


Pictw  upon  ;i  ^braiu. 


ESTCE  the  quarrel  between  the  first  two  brothers  on 
earth,  poor  humanity  has  been  engaged  in  almost  un- 
ceasing warfare.  Declared  in  Scripture  to  be  one  of  the 
divine  scourges  on  a  disobedient  people,  it  has  yet,  like 
all  other  chastisements  in  the  hand  of  a  gracious  God, 
been  often  converted  into  a  blessing.  An  excellent 
Christian  body,  whose  members  have  been  largely  distinguished  by  acts 
of  benevolence,  are  opposed,  it  is  true,  on  conscientious  principles,  to 
war  in  any  form ;  but  while  we  are  bound  to  respect  such  opinions,  they 
have  not,  as  is  well  known,  been  those  held  by  the  church  at  large. 
Even  the  occupations  of  a  soldier,  and  the  scenes  he  is  obliged  to  witness, 
though  calculated  to  harden  the  heart,  have  occasionally  developed  the 
noblest  traits  of  pure  Christianity,  and  it  is  well  known  tliat  some  of  the 
most  devoted  and  faithfLiI  Christians  whom  the  workl  has  seen  have  been 
fdund  among  the  military  ranks. 

Among  distinguished  Christian  warriors,  if  that  name  ma}-  be  per- 
mitted, Gustavns  Adolphus,  king  of  Sweden,  holds  a  prominent  place. 
He  was  bora  in  Stockholm  on  the  9th  of  December,  1594;  crowned  king 
of  Sweden  at  Nykoeping,  26th  of  December,  1611,  and  fell  in  the  battle 
ofLutzen,  the  6th  of  November,  1632.  Born  —  crowned  —  fell!  these 
three  words  record  the  historj'  of  the  great  man.  His  grandfather, 
Gustavus  Vasa,  had  introduced  the  reformation  into  Sweden  ;  his  father, 
Cliarles  IX.,  had  completed  the  work  ;  and  it  remained  for  Gustavus 
Adolphus  to  become  one  of  the  most  distinguished  defenders  of  Pro- 
testantism against  the  attacks  of  its  enemies.  It  is  written  in  the  hook 
of  life,  "Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  wlien  he  is  old 
he  will  not  depart  from  it ;"  and  not  one  pi-omiso  of  that  blessed  book 
has  ever  been  found  to  deceive  those  who  trust  in  it.     In  choosing  tutors 


CO  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

for  his  son,  Charles  IX.  selected  only  those  whom  ho  know  to  he 
godly  men,  and  who  would  not  forget  that  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the 
beginning  of  wisdom.  John  Skitte  and  Otto  de  ^loerner  were  the  names 
of  the  men  to  whom  this  charge  was  committed. 

Gustavus  Adolphus  seems  from  a  very  early  age  to  have  been  under 
the  influence  of  vital  religion.  Even  as  a  child  he  never  commenced  any 
new  undertaking  without  first  committing  it  to  God  in  prayer ;  and  when 
he  was  become  a  man,  he  saw  no  reason  to  give  over  the  practice.  IIow 
wondrous  is  the  influence  of  prayer !  It  gives  such  clearness  to  the  con- 
ceptions, and  such  firmness  to  the  whole  character!  At  ten  years  of  age, 
this  youth  took  his  seat  regularly  in  the  council  of  state,  and  two  years 
later  important  conmiissious  were  intrusted  to  him.  In  his  fifteenth 
,year  we  find  him  giving  audience  to  foreign  ambassadors,  mustering 
the  armj',  providing  for  the  wants  of  the  soldiers,  undertaking  a  success- 
ful embassy  to  Denmark  to  prevent  the  outbreak  of  hostilities,  and 
taking  an  active  part  in  the  deliberations  of  the  council  of  state ;  we 
know,  also,  that  it  was  his  regular  communion  with  God  which  gave  the 
lofty  and  pure  tone  to  his  whole  character. 

Many  years  later,  in  the  tumults  of  the  camp,  he  used  to  say,  "  I  try 
to  keep  away  the  temptations  of  the  devil  by  keeping  near  to  the  word 
of  God."  He  often  retired,  and  remained  for  hours  alone  in  secret  devo- 
tion, and  would  not  sufl'er  himself  to  be  disturbed.  On  one  such  occa- 
sion a  messenger  arrived  at  the  camp  with  news  of  importance ;  the 
business  could  bear  no  delay,  and  on  entering  his  tent,  the  messenger 
found  the  king  bathed  in  tears  and  on  his  knees  before  an  open  Bible. 
The  intruder  was  about  to  retire,  when  the  king,  rising  slowl}'  from  his 
knees,  bade  him  remain.  "You  ma}-,  perhaps,  think  it  strang-e,"  he 
said,  "  to  see  me  thus  occupied,  when  I  have  so  many  to  pray  for  me, 
but  no  one  has  so  much  need  of  prayer  as  the  man  who  is  responsible  to 
God  alone  for  his  conduct.  When  I  first  seek  counsel  of  God,  and 
obtain  tlie  divine  approbation,  I  may -then  venture  fearlessly  to  carry 
out  my  plans." 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  61 

It  was  well  that  Gustaviis  Adolphns  had  early  learned  the  efficacy  of 
prayer,  for  the  decease  of  his  father  brought  him  at  a  very  early  age  to 
the  throne  of  Sweden.  He  liad  just  completed  his  seventeenth  year, 
when  on  the  17th  of  December,  IGll,  he  was  proclaimed  king,  and  nine 
days  later  was  crowned.  lie  may  have  felt  at  that  time  as  king  Solomon 
did,  and  his  pra3-er  was  the  same :  "And  now,  O  Lord  my  God,  thou 
hast  made  thy  servant  king  instead  of  my  father,  and  I  am  but  a  little 
child.  Give,  therefore,  thy  servant  an  understanding  heart  to  judge  thy 
people." 

Ills  natural  fiei-y  disposition  required  much  grace  to  subdue  it,  and 
though  his  general  character  was  subject  to  the  law  of  God  in  a  pre-emi- 
nent degree,  still  he  was  not  free  from  many  and  grievous  failings.  lie 
liad  grown  up  at  a  court  where  duels  were  common,  and  where  the 
polish  of  later  times  had  as  yet  not  entered.  Shortly  after  he  became 
king,  an  incident  occurred  which  shows  something  of  his  character.  A 
Scotch  officer.  Colonel  Seaton,  who  was  at  court,  had  at  one  time  made 
some  mistake  in  the  discharge  of  duty.  The  king,  in  his  usual  manner, 
gave  him  a  severe  reprimand,  when  the  Colonel  attempting  to  palliate 
the  oftcnee,  received  from  Gustavus  a  smart  box  on  the  ear.  Seaton  at 
once  surrendered  his  commission,  and  hastened  to  offer  his  services  to 
the  king  of  Denmark.  Gustavus  Adolphus  soon  repented  of  what  he 
had  done,  and,  taking  a  few  companions,  he  mounted  his  horse,  and 
galloped  after  the  Scotchman,  overtaking  him  just  as  he  had  crossed  the 
Swedish  frontiers.  "Colonel,"  said  the  king  on  coming  up,  "I  have 
done  you  injustice,  and  have  insulted  you,  for  which  I  am  very  sorry; 
and  knowing  you  to  be  a  man  of  honour,  I  have  come  to  offer  you  satis- 
faction. Here  are  pistols  and  swords,  clioose  which  you  will,  for  be^-ond 
the  frontiers  Gustavus  Adolphus  and  Seaton  are  equals."  Seaton  sprang 
from  his  horse,  fell  on  his  knee  before  the  king,  and  begged  to  be  again 
taken  into  his  service;  for  such  a  king  he  would  gladly  live  and  die. 
The  offer  was  accepted,  and  on  returning  to  court,  the  king  stated  pub- 
licly what  satisfaction  he  had  offered,  and  what  reparation  he  had  made 


62  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

for  the  insult.  This,  altliongli  displaying  honourable  traits  of  feeling, 
was  yet  a  concession  to  the  false  notions  of  the  age. 

A  little  more  experience,  however,  changed  his  views  of  duelling,  and 
in  the  laws  which  he  wrote  for  his  own  army,  it  was  classed  among  the 
crimes  to  be  punished  with  death.  Many  years  after  the  event  above 
recorded,  two  officers  having  quarrelled,  and  having  asked  leave  to  be 
relieved  from  the  army  regulations"  about  duelling,  inviting  the  king  at 
the  same  time  to  be  present  at  the  "  aifair  of  honour,"  were  somewhat 
astonished  on  arriving  at  the  appointed  place  to  find  the  king  and  all  his 
stafi"  waiting  for  them.  Their  astonishment  was  increased  on  seeing  the 
public  executioner  take  his  place  with  the  axe  beside  them.  "Don't  be 
alarmed,  gentlemen,"  said  the  king,  "you  have  invited  me  to  witness  a 
breach  of  the  law  which  you  and  I  have  sworn  to  obey,  and  I  have  given 
orders  to  the  headsman  that  whoever  strikes  the  first  blow  shall  be  im- 
mediately beheaded."  The  duellists  laid  down  their  swords,  and  the 
king  retired,  having  thus  publicly  vindicated  the  majesty  of  the  law. 

Gustavus  Adolphus  was  peculiarly  happy  in  his  choice  of  counsellors. 
When  a  post  was  vacant,  he  adopted  a  plan,  which  has  often  been  found 
very  efficacious  in  such  circumstances,  and  which  is  yet  somehow  not 
very  popular.  He  went  into  his  chamber,  shut  the  door  behind  him,  and 
prayed  to  his  Father  in  secret,  expecting  an  answer.  Very  seldom  indeed 
w^as  he  disappointed. 

Foremost  on  his  list  of  counsellors  was  Oxenstiern,  who  combined  the 
offices  of  chancellor  and  field-marshal.  He  presided  at  the  council  in 
which  Gustavus  Adolphus  was  proclaimed  king,  and  on  the  decease  of 
his  sovereign  at  the  battle  of  Lutzen,  he  took  the  command  of  the  army 
and  carried  on  the  war.  Of  a  singularly  dignified  and  placid  character, 
he  is  said  to  have  completely  learned  the  mystery  of  casting  his  cares 
upon  One  who  had  undertaken  to  care  for  him;  and  of  God's  ability  and 
willingness  to  do  so  he  had  so  little  doubt,  that  during  a  long  career  of 
the  utmost  activity,  the  concerns  of  the  nation  only  t^vice  deprived  him 
of  a  night's  sound  sleep.     Tlis  advice  was  veiy  influential  in  filling  up 


ANBINSTKUCTION.  63 

posts  of  trust;  and  the  principle  which  he  adopted  was  to  ascertain  that 
the  candidate  for  preferment  was  not  only  fitted  for  liis  work  hut  was 
also  a  man  of  piety.  "  lie  that  workcth  deceit  shall  not  dwell  within 
my  house;  he  that  telleth  lies  .shall  not  tarry  in  my  siglit,"  or  some  other 
expression  from  the  hundred  and  first  psalm,  was,  in  the  mouth  of  the 
king  and  his  prime  minister,  an  evidence  that  the  term  of  service  of  some 
ofiicial  was  completed. 

Gnstavus  Horn,  Hermann  Wrangel,  the  two  Bralies,  the  three  Bauers, 
Jacoh  de  la  Gardie,  and  Torstenson,  were  among  the  most  distinguished 
foreigners  whom  Gustavus  honoured  with  his  favour.  Piety,  prudence, 
integrit}-,  and  valour,  were  among  the  qualities  which  he  sought  and 
found  in  them.  Gentle  as  a  child  was  the  last  individual,  Leonard  Tor- 
stenson. He  loved  the  society  of  simple  earnest  Christians,  and  his  great 
joy  was,  like  the  beloved  disciple,  to  rest  on  his  Master's  bosom  in  sweet 
communion  with  his  God.  By  long  imprisonment  at  one  period  of  his 
life,  in  a  damp  cell,  his  health  had  been  injured,  and  be  was  subject  to 
excessive  pain,  but  in  the  midst  of  the  worst  paroxysms  he  preserved  a 
placid  countenance,  saying,  "It  is  the  Lord!  if  I  should  give  thanks  for 
all  things,  then  surely  for  this,  too,  so  I  will  give  tlaanks  till  I  forget  m^^ 
pain."  No  cloud  of  passiou  ever  crossed  his  brow,  no  unjust  reproof  was 
administered,  no  meritorious  act  in  the  meanest  of  his  dependents  for- 
gotten. When  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  and  about  to  engage  in  battle, 
he  used  to  uncover  his  head,  and  kneel  on  the  green  sward  before  the 
ranks,  pouring  out  an  atiectionate  prayer  to  the  God  of  armies,  till  the 
hardened  cheek  of  the  soldier  would  be  wetted  with  a  tear.  When  he 
gave  the  command  to  charge,  the  torrent  was  irresistible  ;  and  when  the 
lines  of  the  enemy  began  to  yield,  his  silvery  voice  was  heard  in  the 
thickest  of  the  fight,  crying,  '-For  the  defence  of  pure  and  undefiled  reli- 
gion !  For  the  salvation  of  our  souls  and  the  souls  of  our  children  !  For 
the  word  of  God  against  popish  bigotry  !"  Xone  of  bis  charges  was  ever 
known  in  such  case  to  yield.     The  enemy  are  said  to  have  been  more 


64  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

dispirited  by  hearing  that  he  had  reached  the  camp,  than  if  they  had 
been  informed  that  a  reinforcement  of  thousands  of  troops  had  arrived. 
Alas !  for  war.  Alas !  that  such  noble  spirits  must  exhaust  their 
strength  on  the  battle-field.  A  popish  power  was  then  threatening  to 
deprive  Germany  of  the  Bible,  and  with  it,  of  civil  and  political  liberty. 
Protestants  had  either  to  stand  still  and  see  the  word  of  life  torn  from 
their  children,  or  they  had  to  defend  their  rights  on  the  battle-field.  It 
is  terrible  to  he  obliged  to  protect  one's  self  from  the  midnight  assassin, 
and  to  have  no  other  means  of  escape  than  by  taking  the  assailant's  life; 
but  more  terrible  by  far  is  it  to  be  obliged  to  contend  for  years  against 
those  who  would  seize  the  Bible  and  hide  it  from  present  and  coming 
sreneratious. 


St.  i'iiul  Inosing  from   fraas. 

Acts  xvi.  11. 

The  orb  of  day  now  hastens  to  his  rest, 

And  paints  with  brightest  hues  the  ocean's  breast; 

The  ^gean  glitters  in  his  splendour  bright, 

And  heaven's  high   arch  reflects  the  golden  light; 

-The  deepening  shades  from  Ida's  misty  brow 

Gently  roll  down  upon  fiiir  Troy  below; 

The  rocky  shores  of   Samothracia  rise 

In  gloomy  outline  'gainst  the  western  skies ; 

While  far  across  tie  rippling  waves,  behold ! 

The  heights  of  Athos  beam  like  burnished  gold. 

Full  many  a  story  this  poetic  shore 

Could  tell,  of   wondrous  scenes  in  days  of  yore. 

llcvengeful  Greece  was  hero  with  victory  crowned 

When  Priam's  throne  fell  humbled  to  the  ground. 


AXDINSTRUCTION.  65 

Tbe  blood  of  myi-iads  djod  tliat  fertile  plain, 
And  yonder  stream   rolled  burdened  witli  the  slain ; 
While  many  a  noble  chief  and  warrior  bravo 
Beneath  those  placid  waters  found  his  grave. 
The  Persian  monarch  swept  across  that  sea, 
When  in  his  pride  he  sought    to  chain  the  free ; 
And  from  these  walls  the  Macedonian  sped, 
Through  distant  climes  his  mighty  name  to  spread, 
AVhen  nations  bowed  to  his  victorious  sword, 
Obeyed  his  laws,  and  owned  him  for  their  lord. 

But  downward  rolls  the  sun,  and  darkness  falls 

On  Troja's  far-famed   plains  and  ancient  walls. 

The  night  is  come,  and  calls  to  sweet  repose, 

A."  o'er  the  scene  her  mantle  dark  she  throws  : 

The  solemn  night,  that  seems  as  though  'twas  given 

To  calm  the  mind,  and  raise  the  soul  to  heaven 

For  man  to  cast  away  all  thought  of  earth. 

And  contemplate  that  God  who  gave  him  birth. 

The  silver  moon  ascends  the  dark  blue  sky 

And  through  the  azure  vault  sails  silently ; 

As  though  she  sought  the  blest  abodes  above. 

And  fled  from  scenes  of  vice,  to  purity  and  love. 

Hushed  is  each  sound,  save  where  the  evening  breeze 

Comes  softly  whispering  through  the  forest  trees ; 

Or  where  the  murmur  sweet  of  waters  near 

Like  distant  music  strikes  the  listening  ear. 

Few  signs  of  life  are  seen ;   the  busy  crowd 

Has  ceased  its  clamours  and  contentions  loud; 

In  silence  wrapt  the  noble  city  lies, 

As  though  the  king  of  terrors  claimed  it  for  his  prize. 

But  see!   where  through  the  sombre  veil  of  night 
Yon  glimmering  taper  sheds  its  feeble  light. 


5 


66  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

And  as  a  beacon  seems  amid  the  gloom 

To  guide  the  wandering  outcast  from  liis  doom. 

What  hand  has  trimmed  that  flame  ?    what  watchful  fye 

Guards  it  amid  the  dim  obscurity  ? 

Who  can  it  be,  who  thus  when  others  steep 

Their  wearied  bodies  in  ambrosial  sleep, 

Still  shuns  repose,  and  on  his  humble  bed 

Refuses  yet  to  rest  his  wearied  head  ? 

'Tis  Paul,  the  champion  of   the  cross,  who  there 

Watches  in  holy  thought  and   silent  praj-er : 

The  servant  chosen  by  the  Saviour's  hand 

To  bear  salvation  to  each  Gentile  land. 

He  thus  for  coming  dangers,  toils,  and  cares, 

Alone  at  midnight's  mystic  hour  prepares; 

He  seeks  for  strength  from  Him  whose  sovereign  will 

The  realms  of   heaven  and  earth  alike  fulfil ; 

But  who  in  wondrous  love  will  condescend 

To  step  to  earth,  a  sinner  to  befriend. 

Dead  to  all  human   cares  and  worldly  things. 

The  Apostle  communes  with  the  King  of  kings. 

Till  in  the  east,  the  sentinels  of   night 

Slowly  begin  to  pale  their  beauteous  light. 

But  as  sweet  sleep  steals  on  with  gentle  tread. 

And  peaceful  slumbers  hover  round  his  head, 

And  whilst  perhaps  he  dreams  of  lands  that  lie 

Bound  fast  by  sin  in  loathsome  slavery, 

He  hears  a  summons  loudly  to  proclaim 

Freedom  and  safety  through  the  Saviour's  name , 

To  preach  salvation  through  each  heathen  shore 

And  on  the  blind  celestial  light  to  pour. 

A  vision  strange  before  his  wondering  eyes 

In  the  pale  moonlight  slowly  seems  to  rise ; 

A  human  form  it  takes,  with   lifted  hands 

Before  the  sleeper  suppliant-like  it  stands. 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  67 

The  stranger'&  figure  shows,  his  raimout  tells, 
That  in  the  plaius  of   Macodon  he  dwells ; 
His  ever-heaving  breast,  his  trembling  frame, 
The  deep  emotions  of  his  heart  proclaim  ; 
An  aspect  strange  and  son'owful  ho  wears. 
And  on  his  brow  the  band  of   grief   appears. 
But  hark  !    he  speaks   in  accents  of  despiir, 
Forth  from  his  parting    lips  he  breathes  a  prayer; 
"0  save!    we  perish',    come,  and  prove  a  friend, 
And  in  our  misery  thine  assistance  lend ; 
Deep  in  the  darkest  shades  of  death  wo  lie, 
And  in  the  cruel  grasp  of  sin  we  die  j 
Come  over  to  us  quickly,  and  impart 
Sweet  words  of   comfort  to  each  aching  heart." 
'Tis  thus  he  prays;    a  tear  is  in  his  eye, 
And  from  his  throbbing  breast  escapes  a  sigh. 
Then  slowly  sinking  from  the  apostle's  sigbt. 
The  vision  fades  and  mixes  with  the  ni^iht. 


Behold !   the  morning  breaks  with  tardy  hand. 
Rolling  the  veil  of   night  from  off  the  land ; 
The  first  grey  streaks  in  yonder  eastern  sky 
Show  that  the  king  of  light  himself  is  nigh. 
The  morning  mists,  still  hanging  like  a  cloud. 
The  mountain  tops   in  floating  vapours  shroud ; 
They  fill  the  spreading  fields  and  valleys  green. 
And  shed  a  cheerless  aspect  o'er  the  scene. 
The  city  rises  from  her  slumbers  deep, 
And  slowly  brushes  off  the  spell  of  sleep. 
The  men  of  Troas  to  their  toils  awake. 
And  sounds  of  labour  through  the  silence  break, 
Now  comes  the  apostle  forth  with  glad  surprise 
At  the  strange  message  sent  him  from  the  skies; 


68  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

The  voice  of  Jcsas  in  that  dream  be  heard, 
And  hastens  to  obey  his  gracious  word. 
Three  faithful  friends,  resolved  with  him  to  share 
Each  grief  and  pain,  with  him  each  toil  to  bear, 
Converse  together  with  him,  as  he  stands 
With  glistening  eye  upon  the  golden  sands. 
He  views  the  heights  of  Europe,  dimly  seen 
Across  the  glassy  sea  that  rolls  between. 
Full  well  he  knows  the  cloud  of  sin  that  lowers 
In  blackest  darkness  o'er  those  heathen   shores; 
He  knows  that  myriads  in  that  distant  laud 
Lie  bound  in  chains  by  Satan's  cruel  hand. 
To  save  tbem  from  their  awful  doom  he  yearns, 
To  give  them  life  his  faithful  spirit  burns; 
He  longs  the  might  of  Jesus'  name  to  prove. 
To  tell  the  wondrous  story  of  his  love. 
To  break  each  bond,  to  set  each  captive  free. 
And  humble  Satan's  power  triumphantly. 
Behold  he  kneels,  and  through  the  startled  air 
The  accents  sound  of   deep  and  earnest  prayer. 
Wafted  along  by  zephyrs  soft,  that  sweep 
With  gentle  murmur  o'er  the  placid  deep; 
Like  heralds  to  those  distant  hills  they  fly. 
Telling  that  succour  and  relief  is  nigh. 


The  day  pours  in  :    to  catch  the  trembling  gale 

Yon  feeble  bark  unfurls  its  snowy  sail; 

Onward  she  moves,  and  from  her  glittering  side 

Proudly  she  dashes  the  ai5sailing  tide. 

As  though   half  conscious  of  her  sacred  load. 

The  ever  faithful  messengers  of   God. 

And  He  whose  boundless  sovereignty  can  bind 

The  boisterous  storm,  and  curb  the  raging  wind. 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  69 

Sends  gentle  breezes  from  the  gates  of  da}', 
To  guide  his  chosen  servants  on  their  way. 

Thus  hastes  the  apostle,  cheerfully  to  tread 

'Mid  unknown  scenes  with  gloomy  horrors  spread ; 

To  combat  with  the  powers  of   sin  he  goes, 

To  grapple  boldly  with  his  Master's  foes. 

The  still  small  voice  that  whispers   in  his  ear, 

Dispels  each  doubt,  and  drives  away  each  fear; 

He  trusts  the  word  of   God,  by  faith  his  eye 

Scans  the  dark  pages  of   futurity. 

He  knows  that  soon  the  blissful  hour  will  come 

When  the  Kedeemor's  voice  shall  call   him  home; 

When  Christ  shall  say,  "The  appointed  race  is  run, 

The  combat's  o'er,  the  prize  of  victory  's  won  : 

Enter,  ye  blest,  the  heavenly  realms  on  high. 

And  dwell  amidst  the  glories  of   the  sky." 

E'en  now  from  many  a  land  is  heard  the  cry, 

"Come  o'er  and  help  us  ere  in  sin  we  die;" 

From  many  a  spirit,  panting  to  be  free, 

Bursts  the  loud  wail  of   heartfelt  misery. 

Go  forth,  ye  faithful  few,  and  gladly  bear 

The  blessings  of  the  gospel  message  there ; 

Salvation  to  each  dying  sinner  give. 

Bid  him  in  faith  behold  the  cross  and  live  : 

Till  all  the  Saviour's  gracious  name  shall  know 

And  at  his  throne  with  grateful   homage  bow ; 

Till  all  with  one  consent  shall  own  him  king. 

And  heaven's  eternal  arches  with  their  praises  rinw. 


70 


PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTEliTAINMENT 


®lTt  |!iuc(n'fr. 


"And  while  he  lingered,  the  men  laid  hold  upon  his  hand;  the  Lord  being  merciful  unto  him." — 
Gen.  six.  16. 


'HAT  a  description  is  contained  in  this  chapter !  "What 
a  picture  of  nature  —  destitute,  alas  !  of  nature's  God ! 
What  a  forcible  delineation  of  a  most  important  crisis 
in  patriarchal  history !  but  0,  how  much  more  strik- 
ing the  description  drawn  of  that  more  momentous 
crisis  that  occurs  once,  at  least,  in  the  history  of  every 
human  mind  —  the  great  crisis  of  decision  ! 

The  last  hour  of  loveliness  and  serenity  had  dawned  upon  the  cities 
which  were  "  as  the  garden  of  the  Lord"  for  beauty.  Nature's  jioace  was 
at  an  end ;  the  long-suffering  of  the  Lord  had  ceased  to  be  salvation ;  and 
the  missioned  angels,  whose  retiring  footsteps  were  to  prove  to  the 
victims  of  a  divine  and  just  indignation  the  very  knell  of  doom,  were 
already  standing  on  the  threshold  of  the  only  habitation  wherein  dwelt 
righteousness.  And  Lot  was  there  —  he  to  whom  the  message  of  mercy 
had  been  sent.  "Just  Lot,"  whose  soul  was  continually  vexed  by  the 
wickedness  around  him,  to  whom  the  impending  fate  of  the  plain  had 
been  graciously  made  known  —  he  was  there,  and  lingered.  Lingered  ? 
What !  could  he  linger,  for  whom  alone  the  pent-up  fire  delayed  to  pour 
forth  its  igneous  deluge  ?  for  whom  alone  the  impatient  earth  still  re- 
mained quiescent  under  the  very  feet  of  the  idolaters  ?  Could  he  linger  ? 
Yes.  We  are  told  "he  yet  lingered ;"  and  fatal  indeed  might  have  been 
that  one  moment's  dereliction  ;  momentous  the  consec[uences,  and  ruinous 
the  price,  of  that  one  "longing,  lingering  look"  at  his  doomed  j-et  be- 
loved Sodom,  had  not  that  irresolute  hand  been  seized  by  those  whoso 
hearts,  though  tender,  were  not  human,  and  who,  though  sympathizing 
with  his  feelings,  partook  not  of  his  weakness. 


A  N  D     I  X  ?  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  71 

Thus  was  lie  "  brouglit  forth  ;  tlic  Lord  being  merelfal  unto  him." 
The  cities  of  the  phiin  have  long  lain  beneath  the  calm  asplialtic 
waters ;  no  trace  remaining  of  the  famed  fertility  of  that  once  lovely 
valley.  Lot  has  been  gathered  to  his  fathers,  no  account  having  been 
transmitted  of  his  journey  to  the  heavenly  Zoar.  But  though  his  name 
lias  perished  (save  in  sacred  writ),  his  character  has  not.  There  are  many- 
Lots  still  resident  in  the  plains  of  the  world  —  many  lingerers.  May 
their  danger  be  as  happily  averted  as  his  ! 

There  are  some  who,  like  Lot,  find  nothing  congenial  in  Sodom,  and 
yet  are  reluctant  to  quit  it.  Tlieir  guardian  angel  has  long  stood  by 
them  ;  but  the  links  are  strong  that  bind  them  to  familiar  scenes,  and  the 
eye  is  still  turned  lovingly  and  regretfully  to  the  sweet  vale  of  Siddini. 
Many,  indeed,  are  their  dangers.  See  that  fair  and  favoured  maiden, 
bright  and  blooming  in  the  noon  of  youth,  with  every  promise  of  future 
excellence  already  budding  from  the  seeds  of  pious  education  and  reli- 
gious training.  There  are,  in  that  soul,  aspirations  and  desires  that  tliis 
world's  Sodom  knows  nothing  of — an  earnest  longing  to  flee  from  the 
avenging  hurricane,  from  the  "  wrath  to  come."  But  her  friends  are  all 
in  that  heedless  city;  the  home  of  her  childhood,  the  scenes  of  her  youth 
are  within  its  walls.  "Escape  to  the  mountain"  seems  a  hard  command; 
the  eye  regretfully  is  turned  upon  the  spots  to  be  left  for  ever.  She  yet 
lingers  !  But,  ere  the  moment  for  decision  is  for  ever  past,  a  hand  is 
stretched  forth  to  the  halting  one.  The  hand  of  Providence  kindl}- 
severs  some  link,  too  strong  for  that  weak  spirit  to  break,  and  the  hand 
that  brought  Lot  forth  out  of  Sodom  leads  her  by  a  way  that  she  knew 
not,  to  the  everlasting  hills,  even  to  that  "rock  which  is  Christ;"  "the 
Lord  being  merciful  unto  her." 

"  When  heaveu  would  kindly  set  us  free, 
And  bid  the  enchantment  end, 
It  takes  the  most  effectual  way, 
And  robs  us  of  a  friend." 


72  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

But  this  IS  not  the  only  instance.  Approach  that  silent  chamher  — 
draw  near  that  sick-bed,  where  the  vigour  of  youth  and  manhood,  un- 
aided by  the  weeping  friends  around,  are  combating  alone,  and  0  !  how 
vainly,  the  one  great  leveller,  death !  Struck  down  in  the  heyday  of 
prosperity,  life  just  opening  around  him,  every  pleasure  shared  by  the 
wife  of  his  choice,  every  grief  soothed  by  the  innocent  endearments  of 
his  first-born  —  even  thus,  in  the  midst  of  hope  came  the  summons, 
"  The  Master  is  come,  and  callcth  for  thee !"  Though  surprised,  he  is 
not  unprepared.  Death,  though  far  from  his  expectations,  has  not  been 
^\•hollJ'  absent  from  his  thoughts. 

But  life  and  love,  ambition  and  fortune,  were  a  vale  of  Siddim  to  him ; 
and,  amid  these  "  cities  of  the  plain"  his  righteous  soul  would  soon  have 
ceased  to  vex  itself  with  the  sins  of  others.  "  Just  Lot"  would  soon  have 
been  "just"  no  more.  But  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant,  who  has  hitherto 
redeemed  him  from  all  evil,  has  entered  his  gates,  now  on  a  mission  of 
mercy,  and  already  lays  hold  of  that  pale  and  languid  hand.  He  lingers ! 
The  world  is  bright;  domestic  ties  are  strong;  his  wife  and  child,  dear 
as  his  own  soul,  are  still  inhabitants  of  the  city  he  is  called  to  quit ;  the 
mountain-path  seems  dark  and  steep;  "the  sun  has  not  yet  risen"  on 
that  land,  still  robed  by  the  shades  of  futurity.  But  the  angel  is  there. 
There  is  no  hesitation  in  that  celestial  guide ;  and  by  that  hand  which 
has,  unknown,  led  him  all  his  life  long,  is  he  brought  forth:  "the 
Lord  being  merciful  unto  him."  The  last  breath  drawn  on  that  earth 
whose  very  atmosphere  is  woe,  dies  in  a  sigh  of  mingled  regret  and 
ecstaey.  Friends  may  hang,  in  tearful  grief,  over  what  once  was  theirs; 
but  he  is  already  far  on  his  upward  way.  The  tlesh  lingers  a  while  with 
those  it  loved,  and  ever  must  love,  but  the  spirit  "lingers  into  life." 


ANDINSTRUCTION.  T-S 


Tlrc  fining   SfllHcr. 

Amidst  a  heap  of   comrades,  dead  and  dying, 
That  lay  outstretched  upon   the  parched  ground, 

A  wounded  soldier,  weak  with  pain,  was  lying; 
His  bleeding  bead  was  pillowed  on  a  mound 

Panting  with   thirst,  his  eye  in  death  was  glazing, 
But  no  kind  friend  with  angcl-hand  was  there  j 

On  every  side  the  flash  of  war  was  blazing. 
And  all  unheeded  was  his  muttered  prayer. 

And,  as  the  crimson  stream  of  life  was  welling. 
His  thoughts  were  wandering  to  his  early  years; 

Swift  as  a  rapid  stream  was  memory  telling 

Once  more  his  childhood  life  of   smiles  and  tears. 

llo  thought  of   home,  of   friends,  and  one  still  dearer; 

Iler  name   ho  murmured,  and  although  his  heart 
Slower  and  slower  throbbed,  as  death  drew  nearjr, 

Yet  could  he  not  witli  her  loved  imago  part. 

He  thought  of   days  destroyed  —  of  youth  neglected  — 
Of  passion's  headlong  course  —  of  counsel  spurned - 

Of  One  whom  his  proud  heart  had  long  rejected, 
To  whom  in  dying  ho  would  fain  have  turned. 

But  the  pale  moon  now  on  that  field  was  beaming, 
Lighting  with  lustre  many  a  death-pale  brow, 

And  its  sweet  light  in  silvery  rays  was  gleaming 
On  the  dead  soldier's  face,  all  joyless  now. 


71     -        PORTFOLIO  OF  EXTEKTAIXMEXT 


S'lu  littU  31:hnHr;int. 


f''^'^ify^         'S  the  year  1510,  a  lonely  orplian  boy  of  eight  years  old, 
''-^vA        who  had  no  fricud  or  means  of  siiriport,  went  alono-  the 


Mim 


high  road  leading  to  the  city  of  Paris,  -wearj',  hungry, 

/^i'^^l^r^        and  hesifing  a  morsel  of  hlack  bread,  of  which,  when 

j^^^iis^^—-  the  charitable  added  to  it  a  scrap  of  cheese  or  a  raw 

:i^')\  ^      onion,  he  gladly  made  his  repast.      He  was  going  to 

Paris  because  he  knew  not  where  else  to  go ;  wandering  on,  as  the  poor 

and  desolate  often  do,  to  the  great  and  gay  metropolis. 

The  child  met  a  monk  travelling  tlie  same  way,  with  whom  he  joined 
company.  The  monk  probably  found  him  an  intelligent  little  com- 
panion, and  as  they  journeyed  on  he  taught  the  boy  the  alphabet,  and 
even  the  art  of  forming  letters  into  words.  The  key  of  knowledge  was 
thus  presented  to  the  poor  little  mendicant,  and  he  soon  made  use  of  it. 
How  little  did  the  good-natured  monk  think,  that  while  the  instructor's 
name  should  be  unheard  of,  that  of  the  poor  mendicant  pupil  should  be 
recorded  centuries  afterwards ! 

On  entering  Paris  the  boy  fell  among  the  students  of  the  university, 
who  were  a  rather  riotous  party ;  and,  as  it  was  the  hour  of  recreation, 
they  fancied  little  Pierre  would  prove  a  passive  subject  for  their  idle 
sport.  But  some  of  them,  seeing  he  was  faint  with  hunger  and  fatigue, 
interfered  on  his  behalf,  gave  him  some  bread  to  eat,  and  made  him  up 
a  bed  of  straw  on  the  ground  wdiere  they  were  amusing  themselves. 
Pierre  desired  no  more  than  to  be  allowed  to  live  thus  in  fellowship  with 
tlie  students.  An  ardent  desire  to  learn  had  been  awakened  in  his 
mind  by  the  first  lessons  he  had  received,  and  the  result  of  this  second 
accidental  meeting  was  important  to  him  also.  He  proposed  to  serve 
them  as  an  errand  boy,  or  in  any  capacitj-  he  could,  on  condition  that 
they  should  give  him  some  food  and  some  of  the  learning  they  i:)Ossessed. 


A  X  D    I  X  S  T  R  r  r  T  I  0  X  .  (5 

The  ofler  was  accepted.  TioiTe  Lariimee  —  for  t^nch  was  his  family 
name  —  received  from  the  students  some  daily  bread  and  some  lessons. 
'le  had  no  lodging,  hut  slept  on  the  straw  or  under  an  archway,  and 
served  his  young  masters  or  learned  all  day.  Not  to  die  of  hunger,  and 
to  have  the  means  of  learning  while  he  lived,  was  all  the  andiitiun  of 
little  Pierre,  the  future  doctor  of  the  university  of  Paris,  tliun  aimed  at. 

This  went  on  for  a  year;  then  there  followed  four  years  of  Pierre's 
life  of  which  there  is  no  account  extant;  but,  at  the  end  of  that  time, 
we  find  the  same  poor  boy,  then  nearly  thirteen  years  of  age,  a  servant 
of  the  servants  at  the  college  of  oSTavarre  at  Paris — -that  college  where 
the  famous  king  of  Navarre,  the  liero  of  Protestantism  in  France,  after- 
wards Henry  the  Fourth,  also  studied.  Pierre  had  to  wait  on  the  classes. 
Thus  he  listened  to  the  professors'  instructions :  he  caught  their  lessons, 
as  it  were,  flying ;  but  they  became  fastened  on  a  retentive  brain.  All 
day  long  he  worked  as  a  servant,  but  in  the  evening  he  had  books ;  and 
in  a  blank  one  he  recorded  niglitly  the  substance  of  the  lessons  he  had 
heard  given  by  the  masters.  Thus  he  continued  privately  to  follow  the 
regular  course  of  instruction ;  he  studied  as  the  students  studied,  but 
with  far  greater  zeal  and  more  abundant  success. 

The  young  servant  had  filled  many  common  copy-books  with  the 
matter  of  the  masters'  lectures,  when  these  copy-books  fell  into  the 
hands  of  one  of  the  professors.  He  summoned  tlie  young  man  before 
him ;  and  Pierre  appeared,  trembling  at  the  fear  of  a  dismissal.  But 
he  had  not  neglected  his  duties  for  his  studies,  and  had  therefore  no 
cause  for  fear.  The  professor  questioned  him,  and  was  astonished  at 
the  amount  of  learning  he  had  so  secretly  acquired,  and  at  the  uncom- 
mon intelligence  and  talent  that  was  unexpectedly  brought  to  light. 
The  hitherto  unnoticed  hard-working  servant  told  him  all  honestl}-,  and 
then  begged  to  be  allowed  to  undergo  an  examination,  saying  he  could 
feel  by  no  means  satisfied  that  his  self-acquired  learning  would  enable 
him  to  sustain  it.  The  professor,  who  experienced  a  lively  interest  in 
the  poor  youtli,  whose  modesty  appeared  as  great  as  his  talents,  con- 


70  PORTFOLIO     OF     K  N  T  E  R  T  A  I  N  M  F.  X  T 

scuted  to  admit  liiin  to  the  examination  ;  and  its  results  were  so  credit- 
able  to  Pierre  that  be  was  afterwards  desired  to  prepare  Lis  Thesis  for 
the  public  exhibition,  his  success  in  which  would  entitle  him  to  the  rank 
of  doctor.  Pierre  did  so,  and  gained  so  much  applause,  that  the  hon- 
ourable title  was  conferred  upon  him  while  he  was  j-et  a  young  man. 

Henceforward,  tlie  once  wandering  mendicant  boy  became  noted  as 
one  of  the  French  savans  of  the  age.  Pieri'e  Laraniee  is  known  to 
scholars  as  the  learned  Dr.  Ramus,  his  family  name  having  been  Latin- 
ized, after  a  fashion  common  to  his  age.  Poor  little  Pierre  has  a  claim 
also  on  the  sympathies  of  our  readers ;  for  among  the  martyrs  to  Pro- 
testant principles,  who  were  slaughtered  at  the  terrible  massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew,  was  the  young  hero  of  our  narrative.  Does  not  his  career 
show  what  triumphs  perseverance  can  win  when  in  union  with  rightly- 
directed  ability  ? 


fk  ^icfonnation  —  ^^'uthcr's  uiiutn-filjc  ^Ijcses  \\:\M  lo  the  Clmrdr  tor. 


time  (1517-1518),  you  would  have  wondered  at  the 
scenes  of  confusion  and  excitement  which  it  often  pre- 
sented. "\^'as  it  a  fair  or  a  market?  Judging  from  the 
noise  and  jests  of  the  busy  people,  and  the  crowd  of 
':^0\  ^^  eager  buyers,  you  would  have  called  it  a  fair.  Clusters 
of  people  loiter  about  the  jirincipal  streets  and  in  the  outskirts  of  the 
town,  talking  of  some  expected  arrival,  when  lo !  a  gaj'  carriage  enters, 
escorted  by  three  horsemen,  well-mounted  and  in  great  state.  At  the 
gates  of  the  city  the  procession  pauses,  and  a  messenger  is  despatched  to 
the  magistrate  with  this  message,  "  The  grace  of  God  and  the  Holy 
Father  is  at  your  gate." 


A  \  D     I  N  S  T  11  U  C  T  I  U  N  .  77 

Everything  is  ininicdiatoly  in  motion.  Priests!,  sclioolmastcrs,  and 
tradesmen  with  flags,  meu  and  women,  boj-s,  girls,  and  Uttle  chiUh'on,  all 
go  forth  to  meet  the  strangers,  with  liglited  tapers  in  their  hands,  ad- 
vancing to  the  sound  of  music,  whilst  the  hells  of  ever}-  church  ring  out 
their  joyous  peals.  "A  greater  welcome,"  saj-s  an  old  historian,  "could 
not  have  been  given  to  God  himself."  And  now  the  train  moves  for- 
w-ards  towards  the  principal  church  in  the  place.  The  pope's  hull  of 
peace  is  borne  in  front  on  a  velvet  cushion,  or  cloth  of  gold,  whilst  a  man 
bearing  a  large  wooden  cross  follows,  amidst  singing,  pirayers,  and  the 
smoke  of  incense.  They  enter  the  open  doors,  the  cross  is  erected  before 
the  altar,  and  the  people  gaze  witli  awe  and  curiosity.  Many  a  burdened 
heart  among  the  crowd  beats  high  with  hope.  The  man  who  remembers 
his  theft  looks  to  the  wooden  cross ;  the  evil-speaker,  the  angry  and 
malicious  man,  the  covetous,  the  intemperate,  are  there ;  and  there  is 
hope  for  every  one.  And  now  a  figure  more  imposing  than  the  rest 
appears.  He  wears  the  black  garb  of  his  order,  and  carries  a  red  cross. 
His  form  is  tall  and  commanding,  his  voice  deep  and  sonorous ;  and  as 
the  cross  is  elevated  at  the  altar,  he  slowly  ascends  the  pulpit.  To 
preach,  of  course ;  and  what  think  you  is  the  subject  of  his  sermon  ?  Men 
are  there  with  hearts  oppressed  and  consciences  laden  with  sin  ;  \^ill  he 
tell  them  of  Jesus  whose  own  words  are,  "  Ho  that  believeth  on  me  shall 
never  perish,  but  shall  have  everlasting  life?"  "Will  he  souud  forth  the 
loving  invitation,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest?"  "Will  he  point,  not  to  the  cross  &f 
wood,  in  which  is  no  value,  but  to  the  unseen,  crucified,  yet  living 
Saviour,  who  is  exalted  at  God's  right  hand  to  be  a  Prince  and  Saviour, 
to  give  repentance  to  his  people  and  remission  of  sins  ? 

Alas!  no;  poor  ignorant  flock,  they  are  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd. 
I  will  tell  you  what  Tetzel,  the  preacher,  taught.  "  Indulgences,"  says 
he,  "  are  the  most  precious  and  sublime  of  God's  gifts.  The  red  ^ross 
has  as  much  cflicacy  as  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ.  Draw  near,  and  I  will 
give  you  letters  duly  sealed,  by  which  even  the  sins  you  hereafter  commit 


7 S  P  0  R  T  r  0  L  I  0     OF     E  N  T  E  r,  T  A  I  ^'  M  F.  X  T 

shall  be  all  forgiven  3011.  I  would  uot  exchange  my  privileges  for  those 
of  St.  Peter  iu  heaven,  for  I  have  saved  more  souls  by  my  indulgences 
than  lie  witli  his  sermons." 

But  more,  the  indulgences  not  only  deliver  the  living,  hut  the  dead. 
Listen  to  the  voices  from  the  bottomless  abyss  —  "AVe  are  enduring 
horrible  torment;  a  small  alms  will  deliver  us."  A  shudder  here  ran 
through  the  assembly.  Ilusbands  thought  of  wives  buried  out  of  sight ; 
fathers  and  mothers  thought  of  children,  and  children  of  parents.  Many 
hearts  were  touched;  for  the  poor  Romanist  has  not  the  consolation 
that  the  Protestant  tastes  who  is  bid  to  sorrow  not  as  those  without  hope, 
knowing  that  his  believing  loved  ones  sweetly  sleep  in  Jesus.  The 
Romanist  is  taught  that  the  soul  after  death  is  racked  in  all  the  torments 
of  purgatory,  and  that  from  this  condition  it  is  his  duty,  by  prayer,  pen- 
ances, fasting,  and  almsgiving,  to  deliver  him. 

The  appeal  was  not  in  vain  ;  and  the  moment  the  discourse  was  ended, 
Tctzel  descended  from  the  imlpit,  ran  towards  a  strong  box,  and  in  sight 
of  all  the  people  threw  in  a  piece  of  silver  with  a  loud  sound.  Confes- 
sionals w'ere  then  prepared,  and  crowds  pressed  forward,  not  with  con- 
trite hearts  to  Jesus,  but  with  money  in  their  hands  to  the  priest.  Con- 
fession ended,  the  faithful  hastened  to  the  vender  of  indulgences.  Only 
one  was  commissioned  to  sell.  He  had  his  counter  close  to  the  cross. 
Very  sharp  was  the  glance  lixed  on  each.  lie  examined  their  step,  man- 
ner, and  dress,  and  inquired  into  every  circumstance.  For  particular 
sins,  Tetzel,  the  salesman,  had  fixed  prices,  and  the  penitent  dropped  the 
money  into  the  box. 

This  monk  was  a  man  of  notoriously  bad  character  and  great  impu- 
dence. At  Magdeburg,  on  one  occasion,  he  refused  an  indulgence  to  a 
rich  lady,  unless  she  paid  down  a  hundred  florins.  The  lad}^  consulted 
her  own  confessor.  '■^God  only  gives  us  remission  of  sins,"  was  his 
answer.  "  He  gives  it  freely,  he  does  not  sell  it."  "  Such  an  adviser," 
said  Tetzel,  on  hearing  of  the  speech,  "  deserves  to  be  burnt  alive." 

At  this  time  Luther  was  still  a  Papist,  full  of  respect  for  the  church  and 


A  .N'  D     I  X  S  T  R  r  C  T  I  (i  N  .  79 

for  the  Popo.  "I  was  a  monk  and  a  patriot  of  the  maddest  —  a  true 
Saul,"  he  said  ;  but  bis  mind,  partially  enlightened,  could  not  but  revolt 
at  the  tricks  and  imposition  of  the  system  of  indulgences;  and  on  one 
occasion,  when  he  received  some  confession  at  Wittembcrg,  bo  nseil 
great  plainness  of  speech  on  the  subject.  After  bearing  a  long  list  of 
crimes  from  some  of  the  residents,  Luther  asked  if  they  meant  to  forsake 
their  sins.  "No,"  they  replied,  showing  Tetzel's  letters,  "we  have  the 
indulgence."  "I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  paper,"  be  said,  "if  j-ou 
do  not  turn  from  sin,  you  will  perish."  Much  alarmed,  they  ran  back  to 
Tetzel,  and  told  him  the  opinion  of  the  Augustine  monk.  Tetzel  of 
course  was  very  angry,  and  had  recourse  to  threats.  To  strike  the  people 
with  terror,  therefore,  be  ordered  a  large  fire  to  be  lighted  in  the  grand 
square,  and  declared  that  he  bad  orders  from  the  Pope  to  burn  any  one 
who  opposed  the  sale  of  indulgences. 

The  reformation  now  began.  The  feast  of  All  Saints  was  at  hand, 
and  the  church  at  Wittemberg  was  open  for  confession  and  indulgences. 
I'ilgrims  flocked  there  for  the  purpose,  as  well  as  to  see  the  relics  which, 
encased  in  gold  and  silver,  were  set  out  to  dazzle  the  peoj^le.  On  the 
evening  before  the  festival,  Luther  went  boldly  to  the  church,  and  with- 
out telling  any  one  of  liis  jilan,  atfixed  to  the  door  ninety-five  objections 
to  the  doctrine  of  indulgence,  and  in  this  public  manner  professed  the 
doctrine  of  a  free,  gracious  remission  of  sins.  The  work  was  indeed 
begun,  and  must  now  go  forward. 

Many  a  pilgrim  who  came  to  Wittemberg  for  an  indulgence,  took 
back  witli  bira  some  important  truths.  Maximilian,  the  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many, read  Luther's  objections  with  admiration,  and  before  a  montli  had 
passed  they  had  found  their  way  to  Eome,  where  even  Pope  Leo  X., 
tboiigb  ho  could  not  but  be  annoyed  at  their  stern  truths,  overlooked 
these  in  consideration  of  the  talent  they  displayed.  It  was  in  vain  tliat 
the  theses,  as  they  were  called,  which  were  now  publislied  and  widely 
circulated,  were  burnt  by  the  notorious  Tetzel  in  public  places ;  the  seed 
was  sown  and  began  to  take  deep  root.     The  Bishop  of  Brandenburg 


80  rORTFOLIO     OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

was  very  indignant  with  tlie  Eefoi'mcr,  and  once,  when  seated  L}-  his  fire- 
side, he  said,  "I  will  not  lay  down  my  head  in  peace,  until  I  have  cast 
Martin  into  the  fire  like  this  faggot." 

And  now  came  the  question,  which  was  to  be  the  authority  for  Chris- 
tians to  follow  —  the  CHURCH  or  the  biele  ?  Luther,  from  the  time  that 
he  first  sought  the  pages  of  the  chained  Bible  at  Erfurt,  had  declared  for 
the  latter ;  but  at  Rome  the  command  had  long  gone  forth  that  the  church 
was  to  be  first  obeyed.  It  is  true  that  the  church  said,  To  understand 
Scripture,  the  Spirit  of  God  must  open  the  understanding ;  but  its  error 
lay  in  pretending  that  the  Spirit  which  God  has  promised  to  all  who  ask 
it  io  Jesus's  name,  was  or  could  be  confined  to-  a  feiv  priests.  "  They 
shall  be  all  taught  of  God,"  saith  God. 

Luther  having  thus  begun  his  mission,  not  content  with  declaring  the 
truth  at  Wittcmberg,  prepared  to  go  on  a  journey  of  evangelization. 
At  Heidelberg,  to  which  town  he  travelled  on  foot,  he  was  very  bold  in 
declaring  his  opinion.  You  will  see  how  he  had  left  the  doctrine  of  work 
and  human  merit  by  these  expressions,  uttered  there :  "  The  law  says, 
'Do  this:'  and  what  it  enjoins  is  never  done.  Grace  says,  'Believe  in 
him,'  and  all  is  perfected."  "  The  love  of  God  finds  nothing  in  man, 
but  creates  in  him  what  he  loves.  Man's  love  is  the  gift  of  his  "Well- 
Beloved." 

On  his  return  from  Heidelberg  he  wrote  to  the  Pope ;  but  the  Emperor 
Maximilian,  alarmed  at  Luther's  boldness,  quite  changed  his  opinion 
about  the  Reformer,  and  entreated  Loo  to  put  an  end  to  his  proceedings, 
promising  to  enforce  his  orders  to  the  letter.  Leo  was  roused,  and  a 
court  was  held  to  judge  the  man  who  had  broached  these  new  doctrines. 
Luther  was  at  "Wittemberg  when  he  received  the  summons  to  appear  at 
Rome  in  person  within  sixty  daj-s.  His  friends  were  alarmed,  and 
Luther  himself  was  troubled.  His  constant  friend,  Frederick  the  Elector, 
however,  refused  him  a  safe-conduct  thither,  and  the  Pope's  anger  was 
stirred.  Letter  succeeded  letter;  the  matter  was  delaj-cd,  and  in  the 
meantime  God  sent  his  tried  servant  a  friend  in  the  good  Melanchthon. 


A  >:  D     I  X  S  T  K  r  C  T  I  0  N  .  '  St 

Their  intimacy  continued  till  death.  ]\Ielanchthou,  too,  was  a  reformer, 
and  as  remarkable  for  wisdonr  and  gentleness  as  Luther  was  for  energy 
and  impetuosity.  Luther  gave  vigour  to  Melauclithon,  while  Melanchthon 
gave  moderation  to  Luther ;  and  it  was  with  the  help  of  his  dear  friend 
Philip  that  he  began  the  translation  of  the  Bible  into  his  native  language, 
German.  In  this  blessed  occupation  he  sometimes  forgot  Rome  and  the 
dangers  that  awaited  him  there. 

The  pope  at  length  yielded  to  the  request  that  he  might  appear  for 
trial  at  Augsbui'g,  before  the  cardinal  legate ;  but  even  this  concession 
did  not  relieve  the  fears  which  his  friends  entertained  for  his  safety. 
Luther  was  too  faithfuPand  brave,  however,  to  draw  back.  Poor  and 
unprotected  as  he  was,  he  set  out  on  foot  to  meet  his  enemies.  On  his 
way  through  Weimar  a  friend  said  to  him,  "  ^ly  brotlier,  you  have 
Italians  to  meet  at  Augsburg ;  they  will  cast  you  into  the  tire."  "^ly 
dear  friend,"  said  Luther,  gravely,  "pray  to  our  Lord  God  who  is  in 
heaven  for  me  and  for  his  dear  child  Je<us,  whose  cause  is  mine,  that  he 
may  be  favourable  to  him.     If  ho  maintains  his  cause,  mine  is  safe." 

The  interview  that  ensued  was  long,  but  Luther  did  not  j'icld.  The 
Italians,  expecting  to  see  the  poor  German  monk  fall  on  his  knees,  were 
surprised  at  his  calm  and  honest  firmness.  "  The  pope  has  authority 
over  all  things,"  said  the  legate.  "  Save  the  Scriptures,"  answered  the 
Reformer.  "  Retract,"  said  De  A'^io,  "  or  prepare  to  endure  the  punish- 
ment you  deserve."     But  Luther  would  not  retract. 

God,  in  whose  hands  are  the  hearts  of  all  men,  took  care  of  Lutlier 
at  this  dangerous  time,  and  after  many  threats  and  discussions  he  was 
permitted  to  leave  Augsburg  without  hindrance;  and  notwithstanding 
the  efforts  of  both  pope  and  cardinals  to  get  the  Reformer  into  their 
power  at  Rome,  the  Elector  declined  sending  Luther  away  or  expelling 
him  out  of  his  territories.  In  the  mean  time  Rome  was  in  a  ferment : 
Luther  must  be  silenced,  or  the  power  of  the  church  was  at  an  end. 
6 


y2  PORTFOLIO     OFENTEnTAIXMEKT 

f'I]t  Cnntcntcij  pun. 

[from  the  gekman  or  johan  martin  miller.] 
Was  frag  Icli  viel  nach  geld  und  gui  f 

Why  need  I  strive  or  sigh  for  wealth  ? 

It  is  enough  for  me 
That  heaven  has  given  me  strength  and  health; 

A  spirit  glad  and  free; 
Grateful  these  blessings  to  receive, 
I  sing  my  hymn  at  morn  and  eve. 

On  some,  what  floods  of   riches  flow  ! 

House,  herds,  and  gold  have  they; 
Yet  life's  best  joys  they  never  know, 

But  fret  their  hours  away. 
The  more  they  have,  they  seek  increase; 
Complaints  and  cravings  never  cease. 

A  vale  of  tears  this  world  they  call, 

To  lue  it  seems  so  fair; 
It  countless  pleasures  hath  for  all. 

And  none  denied  a  share. 
The  little  birds  on  new  fledged  wing. 
And  insects  revel  in  the  spring. 

For  love  of  us,  hills,  woods,  and  plains. 

In  beauteous  hues  are  clad ; 
And  birds  sing  far  and  near  sweet  strains. 

Caught  up  by  echoes  glad. 
"Else,"  sings  the  lark,  "your  task  to  ply;" 
The  nightingale  sings  "Itillaby." 


AND     I  X  S  T  R  I'  C  T  I  0  X  . 

And  when  the  golden  sun  goes  forth, 

And  all  like  gold  appears ; 
When  bloom  o'erspreads  the  glowing  eartii, 

And  fields  have  ripening  ears ; 
I  think  these  glories  that  I  see, 
My  kind  Creator  made  for  me. 

Then  loud  I  thank  the  Lord  above, 

And  say,  in  joyful  mood, 
Ilia  love,  indeed,  is  Father's  love. 

He  wills  to  all  men  good. 
Then  let  me  ever  grateful  live, 
Enjoying  all  he  deigns  to  give. 


83 


ffuMngs  of  Jil^ii^t  pro bi knee. 


"I  will  bring  the  IjlinJ  by  a  Wiiy  they  knew  not."— Isaiah  xUi.  16. 

BOUT  five-and-thirty  years  ago,  a  geiitlemau  of 
fortune,  wlio  had  been  brought  up  without  anj^  re- 
ligious advantages,  one  Sunday  morning  took  his 
^V^")  -walk  in  the  fields  near  Chelsea,  and  as  he  walked, 
*'-■"*'-, he  thouglit  thus  within  himself:  —  "  What  a  happy 
fellow  I  am !  I  have  an  ample  fortune,  an  affec- 
tionate wife,  and  everything  about  me  to  make  me 
comfortable;  and  what  makes  it  the  more  pleasing  is,  that  I  am  not 
indebted  to  any  one  for  it;  I  have  made  it  myself;  it  is  all  my  own.  I 
am  independent  of  every  one ;  it  is  all  my  own,  and  I  may  do  what  I 
like  with  it.  Many  persons  are  under  obligations  here  and  there ;  but  I 
am  under  obligations  to  no  one  for  what  I  have,  and  I  am  finite  free  in 
the  disposal  of  it." 


84  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTEHTAINJIENT 

"Wliile  tLiis  riuuinatiiig,  a  summer  sliowci'  happening  to  fall,  made  it 
necessary  to  seek  shelter,  and  the  only  opening  which  presented  itself 
was  a  church  (belonging  to  the  Establishment),  but  he  determined  not 
to  go  further  than  the  porch,  never  having  been  in  a  place  of  worship 
since  he  was  married.  A  gentleman,  however,  sitting  near  the  door,  on 
seeing  him  within  the  porch,  came  out  of  his  jiew  and  invited  him  into 
it ;  and  it  was  so  politely  done  that  he  could  not  resist,  especially  as  the 
rain  appeared  likely  to  continue.  The  moment  after  he  was  seated,  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  clergyman,  the  Rev.  John  Owen,  who  was 
just  pronouncing  his  text  —  "  Ye  ai-e  not  your  own  ;  ye  are  bought  with 
a  price."  "AVhat!"  thought  he,  "this  is  strange  doctrine ;  but  it  does 
not  apply  to  me ;  I  am  my  own,  and  all  I  have  is  miue."  As  Mr.  Owen 
proceeded,  he  brought  new  and  strange  things  to  his  ears,  and  the  gentle- 
man retired  with  his  mind  deeply  impressed.  On  reaching  home,  he 
informed  his  wife  what  had  occurred,  and  incpiired  for  a  Bible,  that  he 
might  see  whether  there  was  not  something  to  qualify  the  text,  having 
borne  in  mind  the  reference  to  it;  but  there  was  not  a  Bible  in  the 
house,  for  neither  himself,  nor  his  wife,  nor  any  one  of  the  servants, 
possessed  one. 

The  impression  made  upon  his  mind  was  such  as  to  induce  him  to 
return  to  the  church  in  the  evening,  and  then  that  impression  was 
deepened. 

The  next  morning  he  went  out  early,  walked  about  till  a  bookseller's 
shop  was  opened,  and  purchased  a  Bible ;  and,  returning,  told  his  wife 
it  really  was  so ;  there  were  the  words,  and  the  obligation  was  distinct 
and  unqualified.  The  next  Sabbath  she  accompanied  him  to  the  church, 
and  the  result  was,  under  the  Divine  blessing,  that  after  a  short  time 
they  both  avowed  themselves  to  be  under  obligations  to  the  Eedeemer, 
being  bought  with  his  blood  ;  they  united  themselves  with  that  congre- 
gation, and  became  exceedingly  useful  in  promoting  the  cause  of  Christ. 

To  the  preceding,  we  may  add  another  very  similar  instance  of  the 
wonder-working  power  of  God. 


AXniNST  RUCTION.  8/» 

Mrs.  Elliiit,  who  spent  lier  latter  years  in  tlio  Ectrcat  founded  l>y  the 
late  Mr.  lioljinson  for  ministers'  widows,  was  the  daughter  of  a  trades- 
man ill  the  city  of  Loudon,  who  regularly  attended  his  parish  church, 
and  had  a'  strong  prejudice  against  Dissenters  and  Methodists,  among 
whom  he  included  those  who  attended  an  evangelical  ministry  in  the 
Church  of  England  —  a  pivjudieo  which  his  daughter  also  imljibed.  In 
consequence  of  her  falling  into  ill  health,  a  lodging  was  taken  for  her 
at  Hackney.  The  good  man  and  his  wife  with  whom  she  lodged  were 
ver}'  kind  to  her,  and  very  soon  invited  her  into  their  room  to  tlieir 
family  worship,*  but  she  steadily  refused,  saying  she  belonged  to  the 
Church  of  England,  which  they  did  not.  She  occasionally,  however, 
overheard  the  landlord  in  prayer,  the  partition  being  slight,  and  could 
not  help  thinking  he  was  a  worthy  man,  though  mistaken  in  forming 
such  precise  notions  as  she  conceived  him  to  entertain. 

One  evening,  when  taking  her  walk,  a  shower  came  on  suddenly,  and 
she  ran  for  shelter  to  the  porch  of  a  cliapol,  but  determined  not  to  go 
beyond  it.  In  liastening,  however,  being  very  weak,  she  over-exerted 
herself,  and  was  ready  to  sink,  and  would  have  done  so,  but  that  the 
pew-opener,  who  was  near  the  door,  ran  and  supported  her,  and  placed 
her  on  a  seat  within  the  chapel.  She  felt  unwilling  to  remain  after  the 
shower  had  ceased,  but  the  kindness  of  the  pew-opener  made  her  reluc- 
tant to  rise  and  leave  the  place,  which  would  be  observed  by  the  people 
sitting  near;  and,  indeed,  by  the  time  the  shower  had  well  ended,  she 
had  become  interested  in  the  sermon  of  the  Rev.  George  Collison,  which 
appeared,  so  far  as  she  could  judge,  to  liave  just  commenced  when  she 
entered.  The  etfect  of  that  sermon,  under  God's  blessing,  was  her  con- 
version. Her  parents  were  at  first  greatly  disappointed  at  finding  what 
had  occurred ;  but  ascertaining  that  she  was  not  the  worse  for  her  new 
views  of  religion,  indeed  rather  the  better,  they  were  induced  to  accom- 
pany her  to  hear  the  minister  who  had  been  useful  to  her,  and  they  also 
became  decidedly  pious.  Her  health  being  restored,  she  took  an  active 
part  in  the  school  for  Jewish  female  children,  supported  by  the  Loudon 


86  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTEKTAINMENT 

Missionary  Society,  and  shortly  afterwards  married  a  missionary,  with 
whom  she  proceeded  to  India,  where  she  became  a  widow.  After  her 
return,  being  in  straitened  circumstances,  she  was  received  into  the 
Eetreat,  where  she  died  a  few  years  ago. 


f-h  Sowl-Iit  i'^t. 

The  diamond  may  sparkle, 

The  ruby  may  sliine, 
Witli  light  that  may  seem 

To  their  owners  divine; 
But  never  can  diamond, 

Or  ruby  outvie. 
In  brilliance  of  lustre, 

The  soul-lit  eye. 

The  eye  hath  a  language, 

Though  voiceless  it  be. 
That  all  may  interpret  — 

To  all  it  is  free; 
Convincing  its  eloquence, 

Warm  its  appeals, 
And  swifter  than  thought 

To  the  heart  it  steals. 

How  awful  in  hatred  ! 

How  winning  in  love ! 
Now  fierce  as  the  tiger, 

Now  mild  as  the  dove; 
All  potent  its  glance  is. 

Where  love  has  the  sway  — 
In  a  moment  we  look 

What  an  hour  could  not  say ! 


AND    INSTRUCTION. 


87 


ClituU  "^jroussflit. 


IIE  life  of  Clande  Brousson  forms  ouo  of  the  most 
;triking  episodes  in  the  aunals  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury ;  the  lessons  it  conveys  ai-e  fraught  with  the  liveliest 
interest,  illustrating  as  they  do  both  the  spirit  of  perse- 
_^  cution  which  presided  over  the  councils  of  Louis  XTV., 

^  and  the  unconquerable  firmness  of  those  Protestant 

martyrs,  whom  the  Lord  strengthened  to  witness  on  behalf  of  his  truth. 
At  the  time  when  measures  of  violence  had  already  been  carried  into 
effect  against  the  Huguenots ;  when  Louvois  was  organizing  the  "  booted 
mission,"  and  Pelisson  purchasing  fictitious  conversions  or  recantations 
at  so  much  a  head ;  there  lived  at  Toulouse,  in  the  south  of  France,  a 
barrister  named  Claude  Brousson.  Born  in  1647,  he  had  reached  his 
maturity,  and  by  his  character,  liis  piety,  and  his  talents,  had  acquired 
amongst  the  evangelical  churches  of  the  southern  provinces  an  influence, 
which  soon  became  for  the  government  a  subject  of  serious  alarm.  As 
thoroughly  versed  in  divine  as  in  human  law,  blending  the  learning  of  a 
scholar  with  the  piety  of  an  apostle,  he  was  no  less  conspicuous  for  the 
inflexible  firmness  of  his  principles,  than  for  the  unruffled  serenity  of  his 
judgment.  lie  was  capable  of  the  noblest  resolution  and  the  most 
ardent  enthusiasm.  As  a  barrister,  he  often  pleaded  the  cause  of  the 
churches  in  Languedoc  and  Guyenne  before  venal  courts  bent  upon  their 
destruction,  and  the  outbursts  of  his  eloquence  not  unfrequently  disturbed 
for  a  while  the  conscience  of  some  modern  Felix.  The  last  time  he  was 
allowed  to  discharge  his  duties  in  a  court  of  law,  he  appeared  on  behall" 
of  the  church  of  Montauban.  "Led  on,"  says  an  historian,  "by  a  fore- 
boding that  this  would  be  his  last  chance  of  raising  his  voice  in  favour 
of  his  brethren  before  the  magistrates,  he  mixed  up  ^vith  the  defence  of 
the  Montauban  congregation  that  of  fourteen  others  which  had  likewise 
been  prosecuted;  and,  pleading  their  cause  as  a  lawyer  and  as  a  theo- 


88  p 0  n T  r 0  L 1 0   of   e  n  t  e  r  t  a  i  x  m  e  x t 

logian,  ho  wound  up  his  address  with  an  eloquent  aud  solemn  apology, 
which  neither  the  bishops  nor  the  archbishop  of  Toulouse  were  able  to 
stifle  by  their  interruptions." 

So  extraordinary  an  act  of  courage  could  not  remain  unnoticed ;  the 
officers  of  Louis  XlV.  very  wisely  observed  that  it  M'as  quite  useless  to 
forbid  Protestant  puljiit  preaching,  if  rank  heretics  might  hold  forth 
during  the  piublic  sittings  of  a  tribunal.  M.  Brousson  was  evidently  a 
dangerous  character,  a  marked  man,  and  efforts  were  made  iu  the  first 
instance  to  bring  him  into  the  bosom  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church. 
"Steadfast  iu  the  faith,"  he  withstood  this  trial;  neither  cajolings  nor 
menaces  could  pii-evail,  and  the  position  he  assumed  at  Toulouse,  as 
president  of  the  committee  of  the  i^rosecuted  churches,  carried  along  with 
it  such  weight,  that  after  some  time  it  was  absolutely  dangerous  for  him 
to  remain  in  France.  He  sought  refuge  at  Lausanne.  Here  he  might 
have  lived  iu  comfort  and  honour  with  his  wife  and  son,  practising  as  a 
barrister,  or  acting  as  a  sort  of  agent  on  behalf  of  the  persecuted  Hugue- 
nots. In  this  latter  capacity  he  had  been  warmly  received  at  the  court 
of  William,  prince  of  Orange,  and  a  subsequent  journey  had  introduced 
him  to  the  notice  of  the  king  of  Pi'ussia,  who  likewise  treated  him  with 
ever}'  mark  of  respect  and  affection. 

But  the  desolation  of  his  brethren  in  France  haunted  Brousson  day 
and  night;  he  fixnciod  he  heard  their  cries  for  help;  destitute  of  spiritual 
guides,  tortured  by  the  dragoons,  and  reduced  to  the  bitterest  extremities, 
the  forsaken  flocks  were  ready  to  perish  far  from  all  the  means  of  grace. 
This  was  too  much ;  Brousson  determined  to  undertake  the  dangerous 
duties  of  an  evangelical  minister  in  the  wilderness ;  he  cheerfully  departed 
alone  from  Lausanne,  and  having  reached  the  scene  of  his  stormy  apos- 
tolate,  he  received  there  ordination  at  the  hands  of  two  devoted  men. 
"I  have  several  times  protested,"  says  he  in  a  letter  to  Baville,  "and  do 
it  once  more  before  God,  whom  I  take  for  my  witness,  that  neitlier 
directly  nor  indirectly  the  command  or  the  advice  of  any  foreign  power 
has  influenced  my  determination  to  retm'u  to  France  ;  but  that  I  have 


A  X  D     1  N  S  T  11  U  C  T  1  0  \  .  80 

done  so,  only  at  tlie  call  of  my  couscience  and  of  tlie  Spirit  of  God. 
This  call  bad  such  a  powerful  effect  upon  me,  and  worked  so  forcibly 
even  upon  my  bodily  constitution,  tbat,  after  having  put  oft"  for  two  or 
three  months  the  following-  up  of  tliis  inward  vocation,  I  fell  into  an  ill- 
ness which  appeared  to  every  one  to  be  fatal,  and  of  which  the  physician 
did  not  know  the  cause.  But  as  I  saw  clearly  that  God  would  certainly 
leave  me  to  die,  if  I  any  longer  resisted  the  movement  of  his  Spirit  which 
called  upon  me  to  go  and  console  his  people,  I  started  in  the  midst  of  my 
weakness,  without  consulting  iiesb  and  blood,  and  God  restored  my 
health  during  the  journey." 

From  this  time  forth,  Claude  Brousson's  life  oft'ers  one  uninterrupted 
series  of  trials  and  sutierings  which  faith  alone  in  Christ  could  enable 
him  to  overcome.  Let  us  try  and  represent  to  ourselves  a  man  already 
of  declining  years,  of  a  delicate  constitution,  accustomed  to  a  sedentary 
life  among  his  books  and  at  his  fireside ;  let  us  fancy  him  entering  upon 
a  career  where  fatigue,  cold,  heat,  hunger,  anxiety,  helplessness,  solitude, 
and  at  last  the  rack  or  the  scaffold,  marked  the  various  stages  of  the 
journey.  On  one  occasion  he  was  tracked  by  the  soldiers  to  a  house 
where  he  had  taken  refuge ;  a  long  search  was  made  for  him,  but  in  vain  ; 
he  then  left  his  hiding-place,  and  was  walking  to  and  fro  in  a  room  on 
the  ground-floor,  when  all  at  once  he  saw  the  town  guard  returning; 
their  suspicions  had  been  confirmed,  and  they  came  to  institute  a  more 
careful  search.  Brousson  had  just  time  to  crouch  behind  the  door,  the 
slit  of  which  allowed  him  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  dragoons. 
Whilst  they  were  examining  every  corner  in  the  house,  the  scrjeant,  who 
liad  remained  before  the  outer  door,  asked  some  children  whom  he  met 
playing  in  the  hall,  whether  they  knew  where  the  minister  was.  The 
children  did  not  answer;  one  of  them,  however,  pointed  with  his  finger 
towards  the  dc-or  of  the  room.  Brousson  deemed  himself  lost ;  but, 
through  a  singular  interposition  of  Providence,  the  municipal  officer  did 
not  understand  the  sign,  and  went  ort'  with  his  men.  Once  more  our 
"evangelist  in  the  wilderness"  wae  allowed  to  escape. 


fO  PORTFOLIO     OF    EN  TERTAIKJIEKT 

In  addition  to  such  arduous  labours,  "  beside  those  things  that  were 
without,"  there  was  "  that  which  came  upon  Broussou  dailj',  the  care  of 
all  the  churches."  He  preached  regularly  three  times  a  week,  some- 
times ever}' day,  and  even  several  times  in  one  day;  then  there  were 
baptisms,  marriages,  and  funerals ;  besides  copies  of  prayers,  liturgical 
formularies,  rules  of  piety  to  be  made  out  for  the  different  congregations, 
so  that  after  his  departure  they  might  be  able  to  continue  their  religious 
services,  without  a  pastor.  The  following  extracts  from  his  interesting 
correspondence  will  show  both  the  extent  of  his  labours  arid  the  power 
of  that  faith  which  enabled  him  "to  spend  and  be  spent"  in  the  Lord's 
service. 

"My  heart  was  not  happy  whilst  I  was  inactive;  it  is  in  the  midst  of 
work  that  God  gives  me  the  liveliest  sense  of  his  grace  and  his  love. 
The  work  is  so  hard  that  it  seems  altogether  insupportable,  especially  for 
a  constitution  like  mine  ;  but  God  shows  his  strength  in  my  weakness, 
so  that  by  his  grace,  I  enjoy  robust  and  vigorous  health." — May  10, 
1696. 

"I  had  to  attend  thirty-five  assemblies  for  communion  in  one  place 
after  the  other;  two  of  them  of  about  four  hundred  communicants."  — 
Jan  5,  1696. 

"  I  deliver  three  or  four  sermons  a  week.  Every  sei-vice  lasts  three  or 
four  hours,  besides  three  prayers  every  day,  and,  thank  God,  I  feel  better 
than  I  did  at  the  place  I  have  left.  I  feel  infinitely  more  happy  than  if 
I  were  established  in  the  first  church  of  Holland."  —  Oct.  30,  1695. 

"  The  consolations  which  God  allows  me  to  enjoy  are  infinitely  higher 
than  I  could  express  to  you ;  if  you  were  yourselves  witness  of  what  is 
going  on,  you  would  feel  very  great  consolation."  —  Sept.  30,  1095. 

Thus  was  Broussou  enabled  to  be  "joyful  in  all  his  tribulations,"  and, 
by  "giving  himself  wholly"  to  the  edification  of  the  Church  of  God,  his 
"profiting  appeared  unto  all." 

Long  had  the  instruments  of  Louis  XIV.'s  tyi'anny  endeavoured  to 
seize  upon  the  intrepid  preacher,  and  by  putting  him  to  death,  to  strike, 


A  N  D     I  N  S  T  R  r  r  T  I  O  N  .  91 

as  they  Lelieved,  a  final  l)Io\v  at  "  the  c-liurclies  iu  the  wilderness."  A 
pi'ice  of  seven  hundred  louis-d'or  was  set  on  his  head,  and  dragoons  were 
on  the  alert  iu  every  direction.  At  last,  iu  Oct.  1698,  he  was  arrested  at 
Tan,  hrought  to  Montpellier,  and,  after  a  short  trial,  condemned  to 
death.  His  sentence  was  that  he  should  first  suffer  the  ordinary  and 
extraordinary  tortures  of  the  rack,  then  be  broken  alive  on  the  wheel, 
and,  finally,  ignorainiously  gibbeted.  The  atrocity  of  such  a  verdict 
must  have  seemed  great  indeed  ;  for  the  infamous  Lamoignon  do  Baville, 
who  acted  in  those  parts  as  the  king's  lieutenant,  had  the  glory  of  exer- 
cising towards  the  victim  a  sort  of  clemency  which  was  still  horrible 
enough.  Orders  were  given  to  the  effect  that  the  prisoner  should  bo 
strangled  on  the  gallows  before  being  put  on  the  wheel ;  that  he  should  only 
be  presented  at  the  rack;  that  the  hangman  should  leave  him  his  clothes, 
and  not  be  allowed  to  touch  him  before  he  arrived  at  the  scaffold  ;  and 
tliat  ho  should  be  protected  from  the  insults  of  the  mob. 

On  the  4th  of  l^Tovember,  Claude  Brousson  was  led  to  the  place  of 
execution  ;  he  tried  to  address  the  people  assembled  there  ;  but  the  rolling 
of  eighteen  drums  covered  his  voice.  A  few  days  afterwards,  the  hang- 
man was  heard  to  say:  "I  have  sent  into  eternity  more  than  two  hun- 
dred convicts ;  yet  none  ever  made  me  tremble  like  M.  Brousson.  When 
lie  was  presented  at  the  rack,  the  commissioner  and  the  judges  were  paler 
and  trembled  more  than  he,  who  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  praying 
to  God.  I  would  have  run  away  could  I  have  done  so,  in  order  not  to 
put  to  death  so  excellent  a  man.  If  I  dared  speak,  I  might  tell  man}- 
more  things  of  him.     He  certainly  died  like  a  saint." 

The  catalogue  of  those  noble  champions  "  who  have  washed  their  robes 
and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,"  contains  many  a  bright 
name;  Claude  Brousson  was  one  of  them.  Whilst  we  read  of  his  "faith 
and  labour  of  love,"  let  us  carefully  examine  ourselves  and  see  whether, 
being  placed  amidst  similar  circumstances,  we  would,  as  he  did,  "  per- 
severe unto  the  end." 


92  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 


^  game  in  th  .§;ini>. 


BY    U.  F.  QOl'LU. 


Alone  I  walked  the  ocean  strand, 
A  pearly  shell  was  in  my  hand, 
I  stooped  and  wrote  upon  the  sand 

My  name  —  the  year  —  the  day. 
As  onward  from  the  spot  I  passed. 
One  lingering  look  behind  I  cast; 
A  wave  came  rolling  high  and  fust, 

And  washed  my  lines  away. 


And  so,  methought,  'twill  shortly  be 
With  every  mark  on  earth  from  me; 
A  wave  from  dark  oblivion's  sea 

Will  sweep  across  the  place 
Where  I  have  trod  the  sandy  shore 
Of   Time,  and  been  to  be  no  more, 
Of  me,  my  day,  the  name  I  bore, 

To  leave  nor  track,  nor  trace. 


And  yet  with  Ilim  who  counts  the  sands, 
And  holds  the  waters  in   his  hands, 
I  know  a  lasting  record  stands 

Inscribed  against  my  name; 
Of  all  this  mortal  part  has  wrought, 
Of  all  this  thinking  soul  has  thought, 
And  from  those  flGctinp;  moments  caught  — 

For  glory  or  for  shame. 


A  N  D     I  N  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  93 


fire  Jl'"'^'']   .§'f fiu. 

BT    rUCEBE    OAKEY. 

Dying,  still  slowly  dying, 

As  the  Lours  of  night  rode  by; 
She  had  lain  since  the  light  of  sunset 

Was  red  on  the  evening  sky, 
'Till  after  the  middle  watches 

As  we  softly  near  her  trod, 
When  her  soul  from  its  prison  fetters 

Was  loosed  by  the  hand  of  God. 


One  moment  her  pale  lips  trembled 

AVith  the  triumph  she  might  not  tell, 
As  the  sight  of  her  life  immortal 

On  her  spirit's  vision  fell ; 
Then  the  look  of  rapture  faded. 

And  the  beautiful  smile  was  faint, 
As  that  in  some  ancient  picture 

On  the  face  of  a  dying  saint ! 


And  we  felt  in  the  lonesome  midnight. 

As  we  sat  by  the  silent  dead. 
What  a  light  on  the  path  going  downward 

The  feet  of  the  righteous  shed; 
When  wo  thought  how  with  faith  unshrinking 

She  came  to  the  Jordan's  tide, 
And  taking  the  hand  of  the  Saviour, 

Went  up  on  the  heavenly  side. 


94  PORTFOLIO  OF  EN  TEK  TAIN  ME  XT 


AN     ANECDOTK     FOR     MARINERS. 

N  the  wild  north  coast  of  Connvall,  and  at  one  of 

its  wildest  points,  stand   the  remains  of  Tintagel 

,s,  ';fj;24i^  castle.     They  consist   of   ruinous  walls  pierced  by 

Ml  ,,  ^J^fi^  small  square  apertures  and  arched  entrances,  remark- 
■•io^^^i^  ^^^  ^'^'■'  ^^^^  ^vear  and  tear  from  the  atmosphere 
which  the  masonr}'  exhibits,  and  their  sombre  ap- 
pearance, the  dark  hue  of  the  stones  being  unrelieved  by  the  usual  white 
or  yellow  patchwork  of  lichens.  Tintagel  is  the  name  of  a  grand  head- 
land of  slate,  which  the  action  of  the  waves  has  converted  into  a  penin- 
sula, united  to  the  coast  by  a  narrow  isthmus  of  perforated  and  broken 
rocks.  "  The  waters,"  said  Job,  "  wear  the  stones,"  a  remark  which 
occurs  in  connection  with  other  evidences  of  natural  mutability.  But 
his  experience  of  the  process  was  limited  to  it  as  produced  by  the  pat- 
tering rain  and  brawling  brooks  on  the  stony  surface  of  Idumea.  It  is 
only  seen  in  striking  and  intense  effect  in  maritime  positions,  and  espe- 
cially along  an  iron-bound  coast  like  that  of  Cornwall,  which  is  exposed 
to  the  influence  of  tlie  Atlantic  drift.  Tlje  sea,  deep  towards  the  land, 
and  ever-heaving  in  long  undulations,  has  worn  the  general  base  of  the 
clift's  into  a  concave  surface,  while,  in  particular  situations,  promontories 
have  become  peninsulas,  and  are  in  process  of  being  changed  into  islands, 
an  effect  which  has  transpired  in  several  instances  since  the  date  of 
authentic  history.  Deep  caverns  undermine  the  coast  at  various  points, 
which  the  fishermen  approach  in  summer,  when  the  water  is  smooth, 
and  explore  with  torches,  intent  on  capturing  the  seals  lying  on  ledges 
in  these  gloomy  retreats.  Eocks  entirely  pierced  with  chasms  are 
numerous,  and  form  the  locally  styled  blow-holes  of  the  neighbourhood 
—  the  spray  of  the  passing  billows  entering  at  one  end  and  reissuing  at 


A  N  D     I  X  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  X  .  95 

tlio  otlicr,  like  a  jet  of  stcain.  ScH-ludcd  nooks,  in  whicli  tlio  solitary 
cliougli  may  occasionally  be  seen,  invito  to  nioditation,  while  grand  coin- 
Iniiations  of  sea  and  sliore  on  every  Land  recall  to  the  devout  mind  the 
truth  that  "  the  sea  is  his,  for  he  made  it ;  his  hands  also  formed  the  dry 
land."  It  is  scarcely  needful  to  add  that,  iu  cases  of  shipwreck,  in  such 
a  district,  the  hapless  crews  have  small  chance  of  escaping  a  watery 
grave. 

The  castle  is  supposed  to  date  from  the  time  of  the  ancient  Britons. 
Tradition  commemorates  it  as  the  residence  of  king  Arthur  and  his 
iamous  knights.  It  was  abandoned  to  neglect  iu  the  days  of  queen 
Elizabeth.  What,  changes  have  transpired  since  the  first  stone  was  laid ! 
Druidism,  followed  by  Eoman  paganism,  Saxon  idolatry,  corrupted 
Christianity,  Romish  superstition,  and  Protestant  truth,  are  links  in  the 
chain  of  religious  events.  A  country  divided  into  petty  kingdoms,  the 
names  of  which  were  scarcely  known  across  the  channel,  has  become 
the  seat  of  a  single  monarchy,  renowned  to  the  far  extremities  of  the 
earth  ;  and  a  people  whose  handicraft  only  availed  to  procure  them  the 
simplest  necessities  of  existence  in  the  rudest  state,  with  hovels  for  halji- 
tations  and  baskets  for  boats,  has  grown  up  into  a  powerful  race,  accom- 
plished in  the  arts  of  civilization,  unsurpassed  for  enterprise,  enfranch- 
ised with  Christian  knowledge  and  civil  freedom,  wbose  sons  have  navi- 
gated every  ocean  and  are  familiar  with  every  shore.  "  The  little  one 
has  become  a  thousand;  the  small  one  a  strong  nation." 

Tintagel  church,  on  an  exposed  site,  hard  by  the  ruined  castle,  has  in 
its  burj'ing-ground  some  tombstones  commemorating  a  familj-  of  the  name 
of  Arthur,  as  if  to  sustain  the  tradition  referred  to.  But  though  very  an- 
cient, they  are  of  course  comparatively  modern  in  their  date.  The  cliurdi 
had  its  peal  of  bells  in  the  time  of  the  later  Plantagenets,  the  sound  of 
which  was  heard  far  and  wide  liy  Tuariners  at  sea,  or  villagers  along  the 
shore.  To  these  bells,  and  to  the  period  named,  the  incident  refer.? 
which  we  ai-e  about  to  relate.  Some  three  miles  from  the  spot  there  is 
another  magnificent  headland,  that  of  AVillapark  Point,  with  the  church 


06  PORTFOLIO     OF     F  X  T  E  11  T  A  I  N  M  E  X  T 

of  Forrabiiiy  adjoining  the  "  distant"  or  "  beautiful  burying-place,"  the 
tower  of  which  has  never  echoed  with  the  enlivening  peal.  This  is  the 
parish  church  of  Boscastle,  a  village  at  the  head  of  an  inlet,  which  takes 
its  name  fi-om  the  baronial  residence  of  the  lords  De  Bottreaux,  once  its 
proprietors,  the  site  of  whose  mansion  is  now  indicated  by  a  green 
mound.  Upon  the  foundation  of  the  church  the  inhabitants,  to  whom 
the  breeze  liad  often  wafted  the  distant  music  of  Tintagel,  determined 
to  have  a  peal  of  their  own.  Lord  De  Bottreaux  entered  into  the  pro- 
ject, and  an  order  was  sent  to  a  founder  in  London  to  execute  the  work. 
The  bells  were  cast,  and  dispatched  by  sea  to  the  place  of  their  desti- 
nation. The  ship  had  a  favourable  voyage  down,  the  channel,  and 
rounded  the  Land's  End  in  safety.  Off  the  headland  of  Tintagel,  the 
sound  of  its  church  bolls  greeted  the  ears  of  those  on  board.  The  pilot, 
a  native  of  the  district,  caught  the  well-remembered  tones  with  gladness, 
as  betokening  a  speedy  return  to  his  village,  and  piously  thanked  God 
for  the  prospect  of  being  at  home  that  evening.  "Mark  the  good  ship 
and  the  stout  canvass,"  profanely  exclaimed  the  captain,  "  thank  God 
ashore."  "ISTay,"  said  the  pilot,  "we  should  thank  God  at  sea  as  well 
as  on  land."  "jSTot  so,"  angrily  replied  the  captain,  "thank  yourselves 
and  a  fair  wind."  The  pilot  persisted  in  his  line  of  remark,  as  did  the 
captain,  the  latter  having  recourse  to  oaths  and  blasphemy.  During  the 
altercation  the  sliip  passed  on  to  the  soaring  headland  of  "Willapark, 
upon  which  nianj^  inhabitants  of  the  liamlet  gathered,  as  soon  as  a 
vessel  in  sight  was  rejiorted,  the  freight  being  expected.  Meanwhile  a 
heavy  bank  of  clouds,  which  had  collected  in  the  west,  suddenly  over- 
spread the  sk}',  M'hile  a  furious  wind  arose  and  lashed  the  sea  into 
mountainous  billows.  The  captain  made  every  effort  to  enter  the  narrow 
inlet  forming  the  harbour  of  Boscastle,  but  the  elements  baffled  his 
seamanship.  The  craft  became  unmanageable,  and  being  struck  by  a 
tremendous  wave,  it  capsized  and  foundered  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
the  land.  Thus  the  freight  destined  for  the  church  went  to  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  and  Forrabury  remained  a  silent  tower.     None  of  the  crew 


A  X  1)     INS  T  RUCTION. 


07 


escaped  except  tlie  pilot,  who  gained  the  shore  on  a  jDiece  of  the  wreck, 
and  rehited  his  adventure  with  the  captain.  The  spectators  of  the  dis- 
aster allirmed  that  as  the  ship  went  down  they  heard  a  clang-clang-chuig 
from  the  bosom  of  the  deep ;  and  many  a  year  afterwards,  when  the 
storm  raged  and  the  wind  howled  along  the  shore,  the  villagers  fancied 
they  could  catch,  in  pauses  of  the  tempest,  the  solemn  sound  of  bells 
tolling  from  the  abysses  of  the  ocean. 

Such  incidents  as  those  recorded  above  are  fraught  with  warning  and 
instruction.  Happily  a  merciful  Providence  does  not  often  take  man 
immediately  at  his  word,  but  sutlers  long,  even  with  presumptuous  sin- 
ners, to  afford  them  time  for  repentance.  But  it  has  been  otherwise ;  it 
may  be  so  again  ;  nor  can  sin  of  any  kind  be  committed  and  persisted 
in,  without  sooner  or  later  being  visited  with  a  righteous  judgment. 
Reverently  should  the  command  be  kept  in  memory,  and  firmly  bo  it 
impressed  upon  the  heart  and  conscience  of  the  reader,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.." 


f  lie  Inst  |i;igl)t  m  tMs  (luToi'lb,  or  \k  adlrccl!  of  ik  Pfgasiis. 


OTAVITIISTANDING  all  that  modern  science  has 
done  to  bring  the  remote  near,  and  to  render  the 
invisible  visible,  there  are  still  many  nooks  and 
corners  in  this  land  of  ours  which  pass  almost  un- 
heeded and  unknown.  The  traveller  to  Scotland 
may  have  had  pointed  out  to  him,  as  he  has  ap- 
proached the  border,  the  turrets  of  Bamborough  castle,  or  the  little 
tongue  of  land  which  bears  the  name  of  Holy  Island ;  but  few  persons, 
unless  they  be  inhabitants  of  the  vicinity,  ever  visit  the  spot.  « 

7 


98  rORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

Yet  many  watering-places  Lave  risen  into  celebrity  with  far  less  pre- 
tensions than  this  Bamborough.  !N^owhere  is  to  be  found  a  purer  air; 
in  no  spot  are  the  vegetation  of  the  land  and  the  waters  of  the  sea  in 
closer  embrace;  no  sands  are  wider,  harder,  or  more  spotless;  and  few 
antiquities  are  more  interesting  than  the  castellated  palace  of  the  ancient 
kings  of  Northumberland,  or  the  various  memorials  of  past  times  associ- 
ated with  Holy  Island. 

When,  some  little  time  ago,  I  visited  this  secluded  town,  I  was  pecu- 
liarly impressed  with  the  appearance  of  its  churchyard.  It  was  not 
however  that  the  church  presented  anj'  uncommon  features  ;  it  was  low, 
unornameuted,  and  very  small.  But  the  graveyard  commanded  an 
extensive  view  of  the  sea,  in  the  direction  of  Holy  Island,  and  one 
particular  part  of  it  was  occupied  by  the  bodies  of  those  who  had  perished 
by  shipwreck  upon  the  dangerous  coast.  It  was  affecting  to  glance  the 
eye  from  the  spot  where  they  had  died  to  that  where  they  were  now 
lying  (many  of  them  without  epitaph  or  even  grave-stone)  in  the  dust  of 
'death.  Among  those  most  easily  distinguished  are  the  remains  of  the 
Eev.  John  Robb,  of  Dunkcld,  who  perished  in  the  wreck  of  the  Forfar- 
shire steamer,  off  the  Fearn  islands,  in  1838,  and  here  also  are  deposited 
the  relics  of  one  whose  name  is  closely  associated  with  that  tragical 
event  —  Grace  Darling. 

Among  the  few  stones  which  characterize  this  spot  is  one  which  pecu- 
liarly challenges  the  notice  of  the  visitant  as  extremely  different  from 
the  others.  It  represents  a  shattered  column  of  beautiful  proportions, 
and  is  strikingly  emblematical  of  the  memory  it  is  intended  to  recall  — 
that  of  the  late  Rev.  J.  Morell  Mackenzie  of  Glasgow.  An  experienced 
eye  can,  from  the  place  where  his  remains  are  deposited,  discern  the 
minute  spot  in  the  midst  of  the  sea  which  marks  the  existence  of  the 
Goldstone  rock  —  the  scene  of  the  shipwreck  in  which  he  perished. 

The  whole  coast  is  extremely  dangerous.  The  vicinity  is  volcanic ; 
and  masses  of  basaltic  rock,  hai'd  and  as  sharp  as  iron,  rise  up  in  all 
directions,  sometimes  into  islands,  such  as  the  Fearn  islands  and  others ; 


A  N  D     I  X  ?  T  K  r  C  T  I  0  X  .  90 

sometimes  into  reefs  wliieli  underlie  tlie  waves,  and  sometimes  into  single 
projections,  as  tlie  rock  wliicli  I  have  mentioned.  Unhappily  the  direct 
wa^'  of  entrance  into  the  Firth-ot'-Fortli  —  the  Fairway  as  it  is  called  — 
lies  by  this  rock;  and  in  fine  weather  vessels  usually  take  the  shorter 
course.  The  Goldstoue  rock  is  marked  out  by  a  buoy;  but  inattention 
on  the  part  of  the  steersman,  or  a  dark  uight,  may  lead  to  the  most 
calamitous  consequences,  as  was  proved  on  this  occasion. 

It  is  now  somewhat  more  than  eleven  years  since  j\Ir.  ifackcnzie,  who 
occupied  a  prominent  place  among  the  Christian  body  of  Glasgow,  took 
leave  of  his  wife  at  their  temporary  residence  at  Portobello,  near  Edin- 
burgh, with  the  view  of  paying  a  visit  to  several  beloved  friends  in 
England.  With  characteristic  kindness  of  heart  he  had  largely  equipped 
himself  for  the  journey  with  presents  for  those  whose  memories  were  so 
dear,  and  from  whom  he  had  been  separated  for  a  considerable  time. 
Ilis  first  destination  was  Hull ;  to  which  port  he  had  taken  a  passage  in 
the  steamer  Pegasus.  A  friend  had  w^arned  him  that  this  vessel  was  not 
considered  perfectly  seaworthy ;  bat  he  had  deliberately  preferred  it  for 
his  voyage  because  it  did  not  sail  upon  the  Lord's  day.  The  parting 
between  the  husband  and  wife  was  unusually  aiiecting;  much  more  so 
than  the  occasion  seemed  to  warrant.  A  presentiment  of  danger  hung 
over  both  minds,  and  turned  the  separation  into  a  calamity.  At  length, 
Mr.  Mackenzie  violently  tore  himself  away  from  the  embraces  of  his 
beloved  companion.     She  was  never  to  see  him  more ! 

Seldom  lias  earth  witnessed  a  combination  of  more  talents  and  graces 
than  were  conjoined  in  this  extraordinary  man.  All  who  knew  him  pre- 
dicted for  him  a  distinguished  career,  of  which  the  promise  had  been 
already  given  in  the  highest  university  honours,  and  to  the  fulfilment  of 
which  he  was  rapidly  rising.  His  muscular  tVanie  truly  represented  his 
masculine  and  noble  nature.  Ilis  capacious  brow  spoke  of  the  stores  of 
thought  and  learning  and  wit  which  were  enthroned  within.  His  dark 
eye  flashed  with  the  fire  of  genius.  In  the  variety  of  his  accomplish- 
ments, physical,  social,  and  mental,  he  atibrded  some  notion  of  those 


100  PORTFOLIO  OF  EXTERTAIXMENT 

which  are  said  to  have  clustered  in  "  The  admirahle  Crichton."  lie  had 
attempted  many  things,  and  his  attempts  were  always  triumphs.  Ilis 
extraordinary  attainments  were  associated  with  a  most  loving  and  gener- 
ous nature,  and  were  sanctified  by  a  piety  as  profound  as  ever  prostrated 
a  sinner  at  the  footstool  of  his  Creator. 

The  evening  on  which  the  Pegasus  set  sail  was  a  summer  one  (July 
19, 1843),  and  was  peculiarly  serene  and  beautiful.  As  the  vessel  steamed 
down  the  Forth  and  passed  the  many  objects  of  interest  with  which  that 
locality  abounds,  Mr.  Mackenzie  remained  on  deck;  for  the  scenes  of 
nature  were  peculiarly  congenial  to  his  mind:  and  where  is  nature  more 
lovely?  One  of  the  passengers  was  a  gentleman  of  imbecile  mind,  and 
the  principal  account  of  the  catastrophe  is  derived  from  the  testimony  of 
his  surviving  attendant.  Mr.  Mackenzie  is  represented  to  have  paid  con- 
siderable attention  to  this  invalid,  and  to  have  paced  the  dock  watching 
the  setting  sun,  and  whistling  tunes.  As  the  night,  which  was  fair, 
though  somewhat  hazy  at  sea,  darkened,  he,  when  the  vessel  had  reached 
St.  Abbs,  had  retired  to  his  cabin ;  where  he  appears  to  have  occupied 
himself  during  some  time,  in  writing  for  the  press,  and  then  it  is  pro- 
bable composed  himself,  half  undressed,  to  rest.  As  his  pocket  Bible 
was  found  detached,  and  not  with  the  other  books  he  had  been  consult- 
ing, it  is  inferred  that  his  last  calm  thoughts  had  been  devoted  to  its 
contents.  Thus,  in  serenity  he  closed  his  eyes;  when  next  they  opened 
it  was  at  the  summons  —  "  Behold,  the  bridegroom  comcth ;  go  ye  out  to 
meet  him !" 

The  circumstances  of  that  night  have  never  been  satisfactorily  eluci- 
dated. Whether  the  captain  was  sober  and  daring,  or  whether  he  was 
under  influences  which  abated  his  vigilance,  has  never  been  perfectly 
ascertained.  It  is  enough  to  say  that,  just  after  midnight,  whilst  the 
master  was  preparing  to  turn  in  for  the  night,  and  when  the  vessel  was 
proceeding  at  the  rate  of  about  seven  knots  an  hour,  she  struck  with 
great  violence  upon  the  Goldstone  —  a  rock  which,  as  it  was  clearly 
marked  out,  should  never  have  been  approached.      The  bows  of  the 


A  X  D    I  X  S  T  R  r  C  T  I  0  X.  101 

vessel  ^vere  shattered  liy  the  collision,  and  the  sea  poured  in  apace. 
Baillie  (the  servant  of  the  infirm  gentleman,  to  whom  we  have  already 
referred)  related,  how,  immediately  after  the  vessel  had  struck,  he  ran 
upon  deck  to  ascertain  the  cause,,  and  immediately  returned  to  seek  his 
invalid  master,  telling  the  passengers,  as  he  came  hack  to  the  aft-cabin, 
what  had  happened;  though  his  sailor-phrase  (for  he  had  heen  a  seaman) 
was  not  at  first  understood.  When  he  came  upon  deck  again,  he  found 
the  crew  in  the  act  of  lowering  the  boats,  though  with  the  usual  want  of 
success  on  such  emergencies.  One  had  just  touched  the  water,  and  lieen 
rapidly  loaded,  when  the  captain  gave  the  order  to  reverse  the  engines ; 
the  boat  was  conserpiently  upset,  and  some  of  the  passengers  perished. 
The  other  boat,  through  unskilful  handling,  underwent  a  similar  tate. 
In  the  meantime  the  vessel  was  rapidly  filling  with  water,  and  after 
having  proceeded  about  two  hundred  or  three  hundred  yards,  the  water 
had  covered  the  cylinder  and  stopped  all  further  progress.  Little  more 
than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  elapsed  between  the  time  when  the  first  alarm 
was  given  and  —  eternity  ! 

"Who  can  describe  the  fearful  consternation  of  the  numerous  passen- 
gers at  this  awful  crisis?  The  shrieks  which  arose  as  the  vessel  yielded 
to  the  weight  of  the  waters  which  poured  into  her,  are  described  as 
terrific.  Signals  of  distress  were  liastily  made,  but  in  so  hurried  and 
imperfect  a  manner  as  not  to  bo  visible  by  those  who  were  watching  on 
the  shore.  Though  within  sight  of  the  land  —  the  lights  of  which  were 
plainly  visible  —  escape  was  felt  to  be  impossible.  "Good  God  !"  said 
the  captain,  "  we  are  all  going  to  the  bottom  !" 

Manj-  speculations  have  been  formed  as  to  wliat  it  might  have  been 
possible  to  do  in  so  portentous  an  emergency.  Some  have  imagined  that 
the  vessel  would  have  been  safe  had  it  never  been  backed  from  oft'  the 
rock,  on  which,  it  is  supposed,  it  would  have  rested.  But  it  does  not 
clearly  appear  that  it  ever  was  on  the  rock  at  all  1  Others  have  deplored 
that  no  one,  acting  as  a  leader  at  such  a  crisis,  had  proposed  the  con- 
struction of  a  raft  as  a  means  of  safety.    Such  fancies  arc  easily  indulged 


102  PORTFOLIO     OF     FNTEF,  TAINMFXT 

at  leisure,  tliough  a  thousand  coDtiiigencies  might  at  the  moment  have 
lirevented  their  operation ;  and  scarcely  could  the  mind  have  awakened 
from  the  sudden  terror  before  all  was  too  late.  A  few  had  presence  of 
mind  enough  to  provide  for  their  own  safety;  but  these  were  exceptions. 
Some  were  agonizingly  inquiring  of  the  master  what  was  to  be  done,  and 
driven  to  despair  l.)^'  the  hopelessness  of  his  replies.  Others,  as  the  vessel 
sank,  climbed  the  mast,  in  the  delusive  expectation  that  they  should  sur- 
mount the  waves.  A  lady  was  seen  on  the  companion  ladder  with  two 
children ;  she  calmly  resigning  herself  into  the  hands  of  God,  whilst  the 
little  ones,  suspecting  no  danger,  were  unconcernedly  prattling  about 
some  indifferent  subject.  One  of  the  passengers,  however,  was  conspicu- 
ous above  the  rest  for  his  unshrinking  fortitude  in  the  period  of  immi- 
nent peril.     That  person  was  Mr.  Mackenzie. 

Roused  fi'om  his  sleep  by  the  alarm  which  had  struck  terror  into  so 
many  hearts,  that  servant  of  God  had  reached  the  deck,  and  had  learned 
by  a  question  of  the  captain,  the  imminence  of  the  dangei*.  In  the  crisis, 
no  thought  of  his  own  safetj-  was  present  to  his  mind.  His  muscular 
strength,  which  had  often  been  proved  in  the  art  of  swimming,  miglit 
have  suggested  to  him,  as  to  others,  efforts  to  escape.  But  such  efforts 
he  does  not  appear  to  have  even  attempted.  lie  was  a  Christian  of  no 
mean  order;  and  as  such,  felt  himself  through  Christ's  mercy  prepared 
to  die.  lie  was  a  minister  of  salvation ;  and  in  this  character  felt  the 
instinct  which  might  have  prompted  him  to  regard  his  own  safety  over- 
borne by  a  compassionate  concern  for  those  who,  like  himself,  were  about 
to  be  hurried,  without  warning,  into  the  presence  of  God.  His  self-pos- 
session and  dignity  at  this  moment  were  heroic  —  sublime!  Ila^dng 
ascertained  from  the  captain  the  position  in  which  the}'  all  stood,  he  was 
heard  to  call  to  those  who  remained  on  the  quarter  deck  —  (the  ship  was 
now  fast  sinking  at  the  head)  —  that  "as  there  was  no  hope  of  safety 
they  should  engage  in  prayer."  "lie  then,"  continued  Baillie,  "began 
to  pray;  the  rest  of  the  passengers  kneeling  around  him"  "He  was  as 
cool  and  collected,"  pursued  the  narrator,  "as  I  am  now,  and  the  others 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  103 

were  praying,  but  liis  voice  was  IjcarJ  above  the  rest.  At  thia  lime 
there  was  no  shrieking  or  screaming."  What  burning  ejaculations  vere 
uttered  by  the  servant  of  God  in  that  moment  of  anguish  must  be  Icfl  to 
the  imagination  of  the  Christian  heart  to  conceive ;  the  detail  will  never 
be  known  till  "  the  sea  shall  give  up  the  dead  that  arc  in  it."  AVhether, 
after  this,  the  human  intercessor  made  any  attempt  for  his  own  safety  is 
not  known,  though  all  appearances  indicate  the  contrary.  So  died  the 
Christian  minister  —  a  hallowed  and  memorable  death.  ISTor  is  it  incon- 
ceivable that  as  he  entered  heaven  he  might  bear  with  him  thither  some 
one,  rescued  at  that  last  hour  from  spiritual  destruction,  a  trophy  of  the 
divine  grace  which  had  saved  him,  yet  who  had  never  been  won,  but  for 
the  noble  agency  of  the  instrument  which  pointed  him  to  the  crojs. 
Certain  it  is  that,  even  upon  the  hard  hearts  of  the  surviving  sailors,  this 
affecting  incident  left  an  impression  in  favour  of  the  reality  of  religion 
never  to  be  removed. 

This  M'as  the  last  scene  of  the  shipwreck.  Immediately  after  it  tlio 
vessel  went  down  headforemost  till  she  was  half  under  water,  then  sud- 
-denly  righted  herself  and  sank.  The  suction  of  the  disapjieai-ing  ship 
drew  down  with  it  many  who  never  rose  again.  Others  tloatcd  once 
more.  For  a  moment  the  space  was  crowded  with  the  bodies  of  the 
passengers  —  shrieks  mingling  with  praj-ers  —  till  one  by  one  all  disap- 
peared except  two  or  three  survivors,  who  wore  found  in  the. morning 
and  who  told  the  tale.  The  vessel  sank  in  such  deep  water  that  even  those 
who  had  sought  safety  in  the  rigging,  with  two  exceptions,  were  sub- 
merged and  perished.  What  became  of  Mr.  Mackenzie  none,  for  a  long 
time,  knew.  During  several  days  some  of  his  relatives  resolutely  clung 
to  the  hope  that  he  had  escaped  the  catastrophe  and  woiild  again  appear. 
For  a  considerable  time  the  most  anxious  investigation  was  made  respect- 
ing those  who  had  sutfered  in  the  wreck,  and  each  day  afforded  some 
new  evidence  of  the  extent  of  the  catastrophe.  No  fewer  than  sLxty-four 
persons  perished  in  this  shipwreck.  Among  them  were  the  captain, 
stewardess,  the  greater  part  of  the  crew,  and  several  privates  of  the  fiJ'ty- 


104  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  \  T  E  R  T  A  I  K  M  E  X  T 

sixth  regiment.  One  young  man  who  was  di'owned  waa  about  to  under- 
take a  new  situation  to  which  he  had  been  just  appointed  at  Leeds ; 
anotlicr  Avas  a  player  of  some  popularity ;  another  was  on  his  way  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  world  before  settling  down  into  business  for 
life.  The  body  of  a  young  lady  was  found  embracing  in  her  arms,  a 
beautiful  boy,  in  whom  she  had  become  interested  on  board  the  vessel. 
There  were  discovered  near  the  wreck  the  books  in  which  Mr.  ^Mackenzie 
had  read  on  his  last  evening,  as  well  as  the  pocket  Bible  he  had  carried. 
Among  other  articles  recovered  belonging  to  the  same  minister  were  a 
pocket-handkerchief  (the  coincidence  was  singular)  which  had  belonged 
to  a  relative  —  an  oflicer  —  and  which  had  been  taken  from  his  dead 
body  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  and  a  morning-gown  which  had  been 
given  to  Mr.  Mackenzie  by  Mr.  M'Clood  —  the  giver  having  himself 
perished  in  the  wreck  of  the  Forfarshire  not  far  from  the  spot.  The 
writer  saw  at  Bamborough  castle  some  affecting  remnants  of  the  catas- 
trophe—  part  of  Mr.  Mackenzie's  personal  apjiarel;  some  of  the  theatri- 
cal appurtenances  belonging  to  the  player,  the  rouge  he  used,  and  the 
haresfoot  by  which  it  was  applied ;  together  with  the  watch  which  had 
been  the  property  of  the  captain,  and  which  had  stopped  at  the  hour  at 
which  the  awful  casualty  had  occurred.  After  long  delay  Mr.  Mackenzie's 
body  was  at  length  discovered,  and  it  now  rests  in  Bamborough  church- 
yard, awaiting  there  "the  resurrection  of  the  just,"  and  the  crown  which 
shall  bo  assigned  to  the  faithful  servant  at  that  day. 

It  is  not  probably  allotted  to  many  of  our  readers  to  meet  death  in 
the  same  sudden  and  fearful  form  as  was  exhibited  in  this  incident.  And 
it  is  not  unlikely  that  some  of  them,  calculating  upon  the  small  propor- 
tion in  which  such  events  stand  to  the  mass  of  mortality,  may  be  tempted 
to  exaggerate  the  improbability  in  a  manner  too  favourable  to  them- 
selves. Surely,  however,  in  these  days  of  constant  and  rapid  locomotion, 
when  he  who  has  not  stirred  far  from  his  own  fireside  is  both  a  curiosity 
and  an  object  of  ridicule,  it  cannot  be  performing  the  part  of  an  unneces- 
sary alarmist  to  remind  our  travelling  friends  that,  whilst  precautions 


AND    INSTKUCTION.  105 

against  accident  are  daily  and  wisely  increasing,  it  may  occur  to  tLcm, 
ill  their  frequent  peregrinations  to  he  summoned  to  overleap,  at  almost  a 
moment's  notice  "  the  isthmus  which  separates  the  two  eternities."  At 
any  rate,  who  can  he  a  loser  by  having  permitted  the  thought  of  such  a 
possibility  to  cross  his  or  licr  mind  ?  In  what  position  are  we  secure  ? 
In  the  railway  carriage,  or  the  steamer,  abroad  or  at  home,  who  is  safe 
except  as  he  is  "garrisoned"  liy  the  protecting  power  of  God?  Even  the 
^leep  which  we  nightly  desire  is,  as  an  old  w^riter  well  says,  "  so  like  to 
death  that  I  dare  not  trust  it  without  my  prayers."  To  think  of  what 
must  be,  to  think  of  what  mai/  he,  is  surely  not  the  worst  preparation  for 
that  wliicli  is. 

Most  strikingly' does  this  incident  —  more  worthy  of  note  than  many 
others  of  a  similar  kind  —  exhibit  the  value  of  Christian  piety  and  self- 
possession  in  moments  of  imminent  danger.  It  is  not  often  given  to  the 
believer  to  "play  the  man"  amidst  sucli  scenes  of  fearful  distraction.  Bat 
when  it  is,  happy  is  he  who  can  enact  the  part  assigned  him  !  Happy  he 
whose  last  words  come  out  with  unfaltering  eft'ect !  Yet,  let  us  not  for- 
get that  this  can  only  be  expected  from  those  whose  Christian  character 
lias  been  genuine,  simple  and  uniform.  It  is  the  Jiabit  of  piety  which 
can  best  stand  the  test  of  startling  and  unexpected  emergencies.  He 
who  would  start  up  ready  clad  at  the  sound  of  the  great  Captain's  voice, 
must  have  accustomed  himself  to  sleep  in  his  armour ! 

But  by  whatever  process,  and  at  whatever  time,  the  reader  may  be 
called  —  and  ho  must  be  called  —  to  his  great  account,  it  is  well  that 
he  should  profit  by  tlie  improvement  made  of  the  event  by  the  late  Rev. 
Dr.  Wardlaw,  in  his  funeral  sermon. 

"Had  you  been  of  the  number  of  those  who  were  on  the  wreck,  with 
death  and  eternity  just  before  them,  what  would  have  been  your  state  of 
mind  ?  In  this  form  of  the  question,  possibly,  you  may  be  at  a  loss  to 
answer  it.  The  suddenness  and  fearfulness  of  the  circumstances  —  you 
may  reasonably  allege  —  might  have  sliocked  and  shaken  many  a  mind, 
and  thrown  it  for  a  time  off  its  balance,  respecting  which  it  would  tie 


106  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTEKTAINMENT 

verj'  harsh  and  unjust  to  conchule,  on  that  account,  that  it  was  destitute 
of  faith  and  piety,  and  in  a  state  of  unpreparedness  for  eternit}'.  I  shall 
put  the  question,  therefore,  in  another  form.  What  is  now  the  ground 
of  your  hope  ?  What  is  now  your  state  of  preparation  for  eternity  ? 
You  have  not  now  the  plea  of  sudden  and  distracting  agitation.  What 
then,  I  repeat,  is  your  hope  and  what  your  preparedness  now!  What- 
ever they  are  now,  thej'  would  have  been  then,  whatever  they  are  here, 
thc3' would  have  been  there  *  *  *  Examine  —  examine  well  —  tha- 
foundation  on  which  you  are  building  for  eternity.  Linger  not  in  a 
thoughtless  indecision.  Say  not.  By  and  b}-.  Trust  not  to  moments  yet 
to  come.  Corae  the}-  will,  but  you  may  be  gone  before  them.  *  *  * 
Believe  in  Christ.  Trust  in  Christ.  Love  Christ.  Live  to  Christ. 
Renounce  self  and  sin  and  the  world,  and  make  Christ  your  all.  Then 
let  death  come  to  you  how  and  when  and  where  it  may  —  slowly  or 
suddenly  —  by  accident  or  disease  —  on  land  or  on  sea  —  all  is  safe  — 
safe  for  judgment,  safe  for  eternity.  To  you  to  live  having  been  Christ 
—  to  you  to  die  shall  be  gain." 


®  It  c  .S  a  1)  b  a  t  It  m  a  U  for  gl  a  it , 

Look  yonder  at  the  moadow  fair, 
See  how  the  swallows  frolic  there; 
Now  wheeling  round  in  airy  ring, 
And  now  away  on  rapid  wing; 
They  never  stop  their  merry  play 
Because  it  is  the  Sabbath  day. 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  107 

List  to  the  lark,  whose  voice  so  shrill 
Seems  far  and  wide  the  air  to  fill ; 
Observe  him  as  he  mounts  on  high, 
And  takes  his  miisic  to  the  sky ; 
'Tis  not  to  welcome  God's  blest  day 
He  sings  his  loud  exulting  lay. 

The  bee  is  out  among  the  flowers, 
Still  toiling,  as  on  week-day  hours; 
Exploring  every  leaf  and  bell. 
And  storing  honey  in  its  cell ; 
No  lighter  load  he  bears  away. 
Because  it  is  the  Sabbath  day. 

Gay  grasshoppers  among  the  grass 
Make  meriy  mu^io  as  we  pass; 
See  how  they  skip  and  frisk  along, 
llesponsive  to  their  own  light  song; 
They   never  change  their  sonnet  gay 
To  suit  the  solemn  Sabbath  day. 

Man  only  makes  a  solemn  pause. 
In  recognition  of   its  laws ; 
His  tools  of   husbandry  put  by, 
Unhandled  in  the  furrows  lie ; 
His  toiling  hand  now  rests  to  pay 
Due  homage  to  this  hallowed  day. 

For  him  the  Sabbath  was  designed, 
To  him  its  benefits  confined; 
It  comes  with  a  fresh  power  to  bless, 
As  wearied,  on  we  forward  press, 
Inviting  us  with  smiles  to  stay 
And  rest  upon  the  Sabbath  day. 


108  PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTERTAINMENT 


I r t ii n' i cli  .J f r o u t)   a u ii   ,c i c 1 1) c n . 

^EW  princes  have  acquired  greater  celebrity  than  Fred- 
^;-\f  ^"^      ^1  crick  II.,  kino;  of  Prussia,  more  <renerall\'  known  as 
(\'*^=-l^^^*^    '      Frederick  the  Great.     If  he  did  not  raise  the  country 
^\''0'(^1s»         over  which  he  reigned  to  tlie  ranlv  of  one  of  the  na- 
■^M^^r  tions  of  Europe,  he  at  least  consolidated  her  strength, 

^^^^^  ciVvKi^  j^jj(j  enabled  her  to  take'  that  place  which  she  now  oc- 
cupies as  one  of  the  "  iive  great  powers."  Of  his  religious  character, 
truth  compels  us  to  speak  in  very  disparaging  terms.  Some  German 
writers  are  inclined  to  put  this  down  to  the  mistakes  of  his  carl^'  train- 
in<i-.  "An  austere  education,  pedantic  instruction,  and  severe  trials," 
says  one  of  them,  "had  given  the  character  of  Frederick  II.  an  early 
firmness  and  maturity,  but  at  the  same  time  had  produced  in  him  a 
decided  aversion  to  much  that  at  that  time  was  usual  and  highly  respected, 
and  inclined  him  to  the  new  French  iihilosoph^-."  Voltaire,  and  others 
of  the  same  class,  stood  high  in  his  esteem,  and  enjoyed  his  friendship. 
His  love  for  making  ludicrous  applications  of  Holy  Scripture  was  exces- 
sive, as  is  proved  by  manj^  anecdotes  related  of  him.  It  is  said  of 
Naaman  the  Syrian,  that  he  was  "  a  great  man  with  his  master  and  hon- 
ourable, a  mighty  man  of  valour;"  but,  sad  drawback  to  his  eartlily 
prosperity,  "he  was  a  leper."  Frederick  acquired  for  himself,  even 
during  life,  high  renown  in  the  world's  estimation,  was  successful  in  his 
undertakings,  was  beloved  by  his  subjects,  for  his  rule  was  advantageous 
and  his  reign  was  glorious ;  but,  alas !  greater  stain  on  his  otherwise 
celebrated  name — Frederick  II.  was  an  infidel. 

It  will  naturally  be  supposed  that  a  prince  of  such  talents  and  power 
on  the  one  hand,  and  of  such  sentiments  on  the  other,  could  assemble 
around  him  many  congenial  spirits,  whom  he  would  influence  in  no 
ordinary  degree,  and  by  whom  he  would  iu  his  turn  be  influenced.     Thus 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  109 

tliG  court  and  the  king-  often  mutually  encouraged  and  inflamed  each 
other,  until  religion  became  a  laughing-stock,  aud  even  the  royal  diuncr- 
tahle  was  considered  no  unfit  place  for  jests  on  the  most  sacred  subjects. 
But  though  the  society  of  the  Prussian  court  was  at  this  period  deeply 
infected  with  the  spirit  of  infidelit}',  that  God  who,  when  his  chosen 
people  were  sunk  in  the  lowest  depths  of  sin,  and  when  wicked  kings 
led  the  nation  astray,  raised  up  an  Elijah  to  rebuke  an  Ahalj,  and  pre- 
served for  himself  seven  thousand  who  had  not  bowed  the  knee  to  the 
image  of  Baal,  left  not  himself  without  witnesses  in  Prussia ;  witnesses, 
too,  wliose  position  in  the  country  forced  the  most  reckless  and  aban- 
doned of  the  infidels  to  listen  with  I'espect  to  their  words,  and  who,  led 
by  the  Spirit  of  God,  feared  not,  even  in  the  presence  of  the  monarch 
himself,  to  rebuke  the  enemies  of  the  Almighty,  obliging  them  to  quail 
before  them,  aud  who,  if  they  did  not  convince  by  their  arguments  or 
persuade  by  their  piety,  closed  the  mouths  of  their  opponents.  Such  au 
one  was  General  Ziethen. 

Tliis  officer  was  a  great  favourite  of  king  Freileriek.  lie  had  distin- 
guished himself  highly  in  the  service  of  his  country,  and  Frederick  fully 
appreciated  his  abilities  and  zeal,  as  the  following  auecdote  will  suffice 
to  show.  Upon  one  occasion  General  Ziethen  fell  asleep  at  the  royal 
table.  "Let  him  sleep,"  said  the  king,  "he  has  watched  long  enough 
for  our  safety."  This  speech  does  as  much  credit  to  Frederick  himself 
as  to  Ziethen,  and  we  can  only  regret  that  he  who  could  show  so  much 
kindness  to  a  deserving  servant  should  think  lightly  of  that  greatest 
exhibition  of  love  which  the  Son  of  God  displayed  towards  fidlcn  man, 
the  giving  of  his  life  as  a  ransom  for  many. 

"\Ve  have  said  thus  much  as  introductory  to  a  scene  which  once  took 
place  at  the  royal  dirmer-table  at  Sans  Souci,  between  the  aged  general 
and  the  monarch. 

It  happened  that  General  Ziethen  was  invited  on  Good  Friday  to  dine 
with  the  king.  The  pious  old  man,  whose  deliverance  from  many 
dangers  had  probably  deeply  impressed  his  soul  with  a  sense  of  God's 


110  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

mercy,  and  whose  frequent  deprivations  of  the  ordiuances  of  religion 
during  the  days  of  his  active  life  had  taught  him  their  value,  and  who, 
now  tljat  his  battles  were  over,  wished  to  spend  the  residue  of  his  days 
in  preparing  for  his  latter  end,  made  a  practice  of  receiving  the  sacra^ 
ment  of  the  Lord's  Supper  on  Good  Friday.  Having  so  done,  he  passed 
the  rest  of  the  day  in  pious  contemplation,  in  which  he  was  unwilling 
to  be  interrupted  or  disturbed.  Por  this  reason  he  declined  the  king's 
invitation. 

Some  time  after  Ziethen  dined  at  the  royal  tahle  at  Sans  Souci.  The 
king  joined  in,  or  rather  led,  the  wittj'  and  jovial  conversation  for  which 
the  society  of  the  palace  was  celebrated.  In  the  height  of  his  mirth, 
Frederick  suddenly  turned  round  and  addressed  to  Ziethen  a  flippant 
question  about  the  saci-amcnt,  of  which  the  general  had  partaken  on 
Good  Friday.  We  do  not  repeat  the  question,  for  we  think  that  the  less 
such  speeches  are  known  the  better.  Suffice  it  to  say,  the  question  was 
of  'an  impious  character.  A  loud  laugh  burst  from  the  gay  company 
which  surrounded  the  table.  Some  laughed  from  courtiership ;  some, 
because  they  shared  the  irreligious  sentiments  of  the  king ;  some,  be- 
cause others  laughed.  Ziethen  alone  was  unmoved.  lie  shook  his 
hoary  head,  indeed  a  crown  of  glory,  got  up,  and  after  bowing  low  to 
to  the  king,  addressed,  in  an  unfaltering  voice,  the  following  words  to 
him:  — 

"Your  majesty  knows  that  in  war  I  have  never  feared  any  danger, 
and  that  whenever  it  was  required  I  have  resolutel}-  risked  my  life  for 
j'ou  and  for  the  country.  This  feeling  still  animates  me,  and  if  it  is  of 
any  use,  and  you  command  it,  I  will  willingly  lay  my  head  at  your  feet. 
But  there  is  One  above  us,  who  is  more  than  you  and  I  —  more  than  all 
men  —  the  Saviour  and  Eedeemer  of  the  world,  who  has  dearly  pur- 
chased salvation  for  us  with  his  blood.  That  holy  Saviour  I  cannot 
allow  to  be  ridiculed ;  for  on  him  rests  my  faith,  my  trust,  and  my  hope 
in  life  and  in  death.  In  the  strength  of  this  faith  your  brave  army  has 
courageously  fought  and  conquered ;  if  your  majesty  undermine  it,  you 


ANDINSTRUCTIOX.  Ill 

undermine  at  the  same  time  tlie  welfare  of  the  state.  This  is  a  true 
saving  indeed.     May  it  please  jour  majesty  to  excuse  my  freedom." 

A  death-like  silence  pervaded  the  whole  room.  The  king,  -with  evi- 
dent emotion,  offered  to  the  honest  old  general  his  right  hand,  laid  his 
left  on  his  shoulder,  and  spoke,  deeply  affected :  "  Happy  Ziethen !  I 
wish  I  could  believe  like  you  ;  hold  fast  your  faith.  It  shall  be  done  no 
more." 

It  was  impossible  after  such  an  impressive  sceue  that  the  conversation 
should  flow  in  its  ordinaiy  channel.  The  king  himself  could  find  no 
means  of  introducing  any  other  topic.  Although  the  dinner  was  but 
half  over,  he  rose  from  the  table,  and  gave  a  sign  of  dismissal  to  the 
guests.  But  to  Ziethen  he  offered  his  hand,  saying,  "  Come  with  me 
into  ray  closet." 

"What  conversation  took  place  between  the  king  and  the  good  old  man 
who  had  just  rebuked  him,  lie  who  seeth  in  secret  can  alone  know.  Ko 
one  can  read  this  anecdote  without  feeling  how  manfully  Ziethen  dis- 
charged his  duty  to  his  God  under  most  trying  circumstances,  and  yet 
how  completely  he  preserved  the  respect  which  was  due  to  his  king. 
He  fulfilled  the  apostolic  injunction,  "Fear  God:  honour  the  king,"  iu 
such  a  manner  as  to  show  others  that  these  duties  are  not  incompatible 
with  each  other. 

Nor  must  we  refuse  to  Frederick  the  praise  wliich  is  due  to  him. 
Though  his  censor  had  not  hesitated  to  rebuke  liira  in  the  presence  of 
his  boon  companions  (and  his  conduct  plainly  shows  that  he  felt  it),  he 
exhibited  not  the  slightest  irritation  or  displeasure;  nay,  instead  of  visit- 
ing Ziethen,  as  many  a  monarch  would  have  done,  with  a  reprimand  at 
the  moment  and  expulsion  from  his  palace  for  the  future,  he  bestowed 
on  him  the  highest  mark  of  respect  in  his  power,  by  inviting  him  to  his 
private  apartment,  leaving  to  themselves  his  other  guests,  many  of  whom 
were  probably  the  companions  of  his  hours  of  relaxation  from  the  affairs 
of  state,  or  the  sharers  both  of  his  studies  and  sentiments.  And  it  is 
gratifying  to  be  able  to  add  that  Frederick's  friendship  to  Ziethen  re- 


112  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  X  T  E  R  T  A  I  X  M  E  X  T 

mained  unabated  to  the  death  of  that  veteran  warrior,  or  rather  sur^^ved 
it.  At  a  period  subsequent  to  the  occurrence  just  related,  General  Zic- 
theu  asked  leave  to  appear  at  a  review,  though  he  had  arrived  at  a  great 
age.  The  king  not  only  granted  the  request,  but  voluntarily  gave  him 
leave  "  to  appear  witiiout  the  incumbrance  of  a  dress  uniform,"  adding, 
"  should  the  weather  pirove  too  cold,  I  conjure  you  to  spare  your  health, 
and  rather  not  appear  in  the  field,  than  subject  yourself  to  an  indisposition, 
by  a  too  ardent  zeal  for  my  service.  After  such  long  and  glorious 
services  as  you  have  performed,  a'ou  are  well  entitled  to  the  riglits  of  a 
Eomau  veteran.  This  is  the  advice  of  your  gracious  king."  "When  the 
king  was  informed  of  the  death  of  Ziethen  by  the  adjutant  of  his  regi- 
ment, he  at  first  seemed  much  struck,  but  recollecting  himself  immedi- 
ately, said,  with  much  composure,  "X  have  long  expected  this  misfortune, 
but  I  shall  always  regret  that  I  did  not  see  and  converse  with  my  dear 
General  Ziethen,  tliat  woi-thy  and  deserving  man,  before  his  death.  His 
regiment  will  find  his  loss  irreparable.  For  my  part,  I  lose  a  father  and 
a  friend,  but  my  successors  will  take  care  that  his  memory  does  not 
perish  in  the  country ;  one  who  seiTcd  it  with  so  much  honour  deserves 
to  be  remembered."  A  statue  was  afterwards  erected  to  the  memory  of 
Ziethen  in  the  Wilhelm-platz  at  Berlin  by  king  Frederick  William  II. 

In  conclusion,  we  would  take  this  opportunity  of  urging  upon  our 
readers  the  duty  of  confessing  their  God  and  Saviour  before  men  —  a 
memorable  instance  of  which  it  has  been  our  object  to  bring  before 
them,  showing  that  it  can  be  done  and  how  it  should  be  done.  It  may 
happen,  however,  that  they  may  not  meet  with  so  generous  a  spirit  as 
that  displayed  by  Frederick  on  this  occasion.  Let  them  not  fear ;  for 
to  the  Saviour's  command  is  attached  the  promise,  that  those  who  con- 
fess him,  he  will  also  confess  before  his  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  113 


^  HE  paths  of  the  Vaudois  mountain  missionaries  lay  of 
"^-V  'x!  ^  okl  over  some  of  tlio  most  romantic  and  classic  ground 
in  the  world  —  i)aths  trodden  by  tlie  conquerors  of  the 
earth,  and  hallowed  by  apostolic  feet.  One  of  the 
most  poetic  of  the  Vaudois  historians  *  has  graphically 
described  the  route  of  the  pilgrims,  and  the  welcome 
they  met  at  each  welhknown  resting-place.  Through  their  instrumen- 
tality, the  hidden  ones  of  the  Ltird  were  to  be  found  on  many  an  olive- 
clad  slope,  beneath  many  a  vine-embowered  roof  j  on  the  Alpine  snows, 
and  in  the  fertile  glade  ;  nay,  even  in  the  marble  palaces  of  Genoa,  and 
amid  the  seven  hills  of  papal  Rome,  there  were  thousands  who  no  longer 
bowed  the  knee  to  Baal. 

How  like  angels'  visits  must  the  annual  arrival  of  these  good  men  have 
appeared !  "  How  beautiful  on  the  mountains  the  feet  of  those  that 
brought  glad  tidings  !"  There  were  ph^-siciaus  for  the  suffering  body  as 
well  as  the  sin-sick  soul  amongst  them,  as  there  was  one  beloved  Luke 
among  the  evangelists  of  Christ.  The  generality-  of  readers,  we  believe, 
are  not  aware  of  the  immense  success  which  attended  these  early  minis- 
trations in  the  south  ;  it  is  best  computed  by  the  bitter  cry  which  echoed 
from  ever^-  part  of  the  Roman  hierarchy  against  the  spread  of  gosj^el 
truth,  and  the  deep,  deep  curses  invoked  on  the  recipients,  under  each  of 
the  opprobrious  names  by  which  they  chose  to  designate  them. 

There  is  nowhere  a  more  interesting  account  of  their  progress  than  that 
furnished  by  one  of  a  profession  little  honoured  amongst  us  —  the  inquisi- 
tor Reinerus  Saceo.  "We  cannot,  at  the  same  time,  but  acknowledge  our 
obligation  for  what  appears  to  us  the  very  disinterested  way  in  which  he 
has  reported  arguments  that  so  irresistibly  condemn  his  own  creed. 
*  M.  Muston. 


114  PORTFOLIO  OF  EXTERTAIXMENT 

Our  readers  must  Le  aware  that  the  colporteurs  of  those  days  had  no 
freight  of  printed  and  bound  Bibles  to  bear  from  house  to  house  ;  all  the 
missionary'  possessed  was  a  few  manuscript  copies  of  part  of  the  ISew 
Testament,  which  he  was  obliged  studiously  to  conceal,  and  furtively  to 
circulate ;  since  the  discovery  of  such  in  his  possession  would  have  sub- 
jected him  to  imprisonment,  and  probably  to  torture  and  death. 

Another  peculiarity'  of  these  times  must  also  be  remembered  in  the 
fact  that  there  were  not  then,  as  now,  markets  and  shops  at  which  every 
article  of  necessity  and  luxury  could  be  procured.  Shut  up  in  their 
castles  or  remote  villages,  the  ladies  of  those  days,  as  well  as  their  domes- 
tics and  retainers,  looked  with  impatience  to  the  arrival  of  the  travelling 
pedler,  M'hose  pack  generallj-  contained  the  articles  they  most  needed  ; 
and  even  when  the  annual  stock  of  household  luxuries,  purchased  at  the 
distant  fairs  of  Franldbrt,  Basle,  Beauvais,  or  other  largo  towns,  was 
exhausted,  the  travelling  merchant  could  supply  them.  But  the  inquisi- 
tor shall  tell  his  own  story. 

"  They"  (he  is  speaking  of  the  Vaudois  missionaries)  "  offer  for  sale  to 
people  of  quality,  ornamental  articles,  such  as  rings  and  veils.  After  a 
purchase  has  been  made,  if  the  pedler  is  asked,  'Have  you  anything 
else?'  he  answers,  'I  have  jewels  more  precious  than  these  things;  I 
would  make  you  a  present  of  them,  if  you  would  promise  not  to  betray 
me  to  the  clergy.'  Having  been  assured  on  this  point,  he  says,  'I  have 
a  pearl  so  brilliant  that  a  man,  by  it,  may  learn  to  know  God;  I  have 
anotliei-  so  splendid  that  it  kindles  the  love  of  God  in  the  heart  of  him 
who  possesses  it,'  and  so  forth.  He  speaks  of  pearls  metaphorically;  then 
he  repeats  some  portion  of  Scripture  with  which  he  is  familiar,  such  as 
that  of  St.  Luke,  '  The  angel  Gabriel  was  sent,'  etc.,  or  the  words  of 
Jesus  Christ  in  John  xiii.,  'Before  the  feast,'  etc.  When  he  has  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining  the  attention  of  his  hearers,  he  passes  on  to  that 
passage  in  Matt,  xxiii.,  and  Mark  xii.,  'Woe  unto  you  that  devour 
widows'  houses,'  etc. ;  and  when  asked  to  whom  these  denunciations  are 
to  be  applied,  he  says,  '  To  the  clergy  and  the  religious  orders.'     Then 


AND    INST  TvUCTION.  115 

the  heretic  compares  the  state  of  tlic  Romish  chnrcli  wifli  his  own. 
'  Your  doctors,' he  says,  'are  ostentatious  in  tlicir  dress  and  manners, 
they  love  the  highest  scats  at  tahle  ("Matt,  xxiii.),  and  desire  to  be  called 
Masters  (Rabbi) ;  but  we  do  not  seek  such  masters.'  And  again,  '  They 
are  unchaste ;  but  each  one  of  us  has  his  wife  with  whom  we  li\'e 
chastely.'  And  again,  'They  are  rich  and  avaricious,  to  whom  it  is  said, 
Woe  unto  you,  rich  men,  who  have  here  their  reward  ;  but  as  for  us,  we 
are  content  if  we  have  food  and  raiment.'  And  again,  '  They  tight,  stir 
up  wars,  kill  and  burn  the  poor;  we,  on  the  contrary,  endure  persecution 
for  righteousness'  sake.  Among  them  it  is  a  rare  thing  to  find  a  doctor 
who  knows  literally  three  consecutive  chapters  of  the  ISTew  Testament ; 
but  among  us  there  is  scarcely'  a  woman  who  does  not  know,  as  well  as 
every  man,  how  to  repeat  the  whole  of  the  text  in  the  vulgar  tongue. 
And. because  Ave  possess  the  true  Christian  faith,  and  all  teach  a  pure 
doctrine,  and  recommend  a  holy  life,  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  persecute 
us  to  death,  even  as  they  treated  Christ  himself,'  etc. 

"After  this,  or  some  such  address,  the  heretic  says  to  his  hearer, 
'Examine  and  consider  which  is  the  most  perfect  religion  and  the  purest 
faith,  whether  ours  or  that  of  the  Romish  church,  and  choose  it,  which- 
ever it  may  be.'  A  person  who  gives  credit  to  such  discourse,  who  im- 
bibes errors  of  this  kind,  and  becomes  their  partisan  and  defender, 
concealing  the  heretic  in  his  house  for  many  months,  is  initiated  into  all 
that  relates  to  their  sect." 

There  is  au  interesting  version  of  this  incident  from  the  pen  of  an 
American  poet,  which  we  insert  in  further  illustration  of  the  touching 
episode  of  the  pcdler  missionary. 

"O  lady  fair,  these  silks  of  miuc 
Are  beautiful  and  rare ; 
The  richest  web  of  the  Indian  loom, 
'Wliich  beauty's  self  might  wear. 


116  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTEhTAINMEXT 

And  these  pearls  are  pure  as  tbine  own  fair  neck, 
With  whose  radiant  light  they  vie ; 

I  have  Lrought  them  with  me  a  weary  way; 
Will  my  gentle  lady  buy?" 


And  the  lady  smiled  on  the  worn  old  man, 

Through  the  dark  and  clustering  curls 
That  veiled  her  brow,  as  she  bent  to  scan 

His  silk  and  glittering  pearls; 
And  she  placed  the  price  in  the  old' man's  hand, 

And  lightly  turned  away; 
But  she  paused  at  the  wanderer's  earnest  call; 

"My  gentle  lady,  stay. 


Oh  lady  fair,  I  have  yet  a  gem 

Which  purer  lustre  flings 
Than  the  diamond's  flash  of  the  jewelled  crown 

On  the  lofty  brow  of  kings; 
A  wonderful  pearl  of  exceeding  price, 

Whose  virtue  shall  not  decay; 
Whose  light  shall  be  as  a  spell  to  thee. 

And  a  blessing  on  thy  way !" 


The  lady  glanced  at  the  mirroring  steel 

Where  her  youthful  form  was  seen  ; 
Where  her  eye  shone  clear  and  her  dark  locks  waved 

Their  clasping  pearls  between ; 
"Bring  forth  thy  pearl  of  exceeding  worth. 

Thou  traveller  gray  and   old; 
Then  name  the  price  of  thy  precious  gem, 

And  my  pages  shall  count  thy  gold." 


AND     INSTRUCTION. 

Tie  cloud  went  off   from   the  pilgrim's  brow, 

As  a  small  and  meagre  book, 
Unchased  with  gold  or  diamond  gem 

From  his  folding  robe  he  took  : 
"  Here,  lady  fair,  is  the  pearl  of  price, 

May  it  prove  as  such  to  thee  — 
Nay,  keep  thy  gold,  I  ask  it  not; 

For  the  word  of  God  is  free." 

The  hoary  traveller  went  his  way, 

But  the  gift  he  left  behind, 
Hath  had  its  pure  and  perfect  work 

On  that  high-born  maiden's  mind; 
And  she  hath  turned  from  the  pride  of  sin 

To  the  lowliness  of  truth, 
And  given  her  contrite  heart  to  God 

In  its  beautiful  hour  of  youth.* 


Ill 


fire  ^iTfpIrcvlj  li^iiL 

N"  a  small  scattered  village  in  a  lonely  part  of  Scotlautl, 

near  the  border  land,  -wliere  the  hills,  although  not  high, 

are  wild  and  imposing,  and  where  j'ou  may  travel  for 

many  miles  without  seeing  any  living  being  except  the 

<»^^^iU^_^  scattered  flocks  and  their  shepherds,  lived  an  old  man 

''^?)\  ^^      called  James  Armstrong.      Many  a  tale  could  he  tell 

(more  wonderful,  may  be,  than  true)  of  the  feats  of  his  border  ancestors ; 

and  often,  by  the  peat  fire,  he  would  make  the  bright  eye  glisten,  and  the 

*  From  "A  short  History  of  the  Waldcnsian  Cliurch  in  the  Valleys  of  Piedmont."     By 
Jane  Louisa  Willyams.     [See  "  The  Waldenses,"  published  by  the  Board.] 


118  PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTKKTAIXMFNT 

younc;  licart  beat,  as  he  recounted  the  noble  deeds  of  the  covenanting 
forefathers,  who,  with  all  their  mistakes,  to  which  the  best  are  liable, 
were,  in  the  main,  true-hearted,  God-fearing  men,  although  driven  to 
extremities  by  the  spirit  of  those  iiery  times.  James  Armstrong  had 
stout  and  hardy  boys  and  strong  barefooted  girls,  who  could  have  shown 
you  many  of  the  hiding-places  of  the  Covenanters,  and  they  shared  in 
their  father's  love  for  the  memory  of  that  band.  These  little  Armstrongs 
were  trained  in  the  love  and  fear  of  God,  and  were  faithful  in  word  and 
deed,  honest  and  kind  ;  and  their  parents  were  followers  of  the  meek  and 
lowly  One. 

Every  Sabbath  the  good  mother  was  wont  to  lead  her  young  tlock  of 
children  to  the  house  of  God,  the  nearest  kirk ;  and  how  far,  think  you, 
was  that  ? 

I  have  heard  children  complain  of  a  walk  of  half  a  mile;  and  some- 
times heat,  sometimes  cold,  sometimes  rain,  has  been  thought  a  sufRcient 
excuse  to  keep  them  from  a  place  of  worship ;  but  the  Armstrongs  went 
as  far  as  four  miles  every  week  to  offer  up  praise  and  prayer  to  their 
Maker.  True,  the  snow  was  often  thick  npon  their  path,  the  rain  and 
the  bitter  north  wind  many  a  time  made  the  little  ones  cower  and  cling 
to  the  good  mother  for  shelter ;  but  God,  who  careth  for  the  sparrows, 
cared  for  them ;  and  the  father  and  mother  often  remarked  how  happy 
and  peaceful  were  those  journeys  even  amidst  the  raging  tempest. 

James  Armstrong  was  a  shepherd,  and  a  poor  man,  but  his  tastes  were 
pimple  and  his  wants  few.  He  often  said  tliat  this  life  was  one  of  daily 
lessons ;  and  when  he  lay  watching  his  ilock  on  the  mountain-side,  or 
led  them  to  the  stream  in  the  valley,  he  was  wont  to  recall  the  beautiful 
words  of  him  who  spoke  for  himself  as  "the  Good  Shepherd,"  or  to 
repeat  in  his  solitude  those  wonderful  lines  of  David,  "  The  Lord  is  my 
shepherd,  I  shall  not  want." 

Hardy  had  been  the  lowland  shepherd's  life  ;  but  weakness,  and  grey 
hairs,  and  old  age,  aye,  and  death  too,  must  come  to  the  strongest.  The 
firm  step  began  to  fail,  and  the  strong  voice  to  tremble,  and  the  brain 


A  N  D    I  N  S  T  II  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  110 

now  and  tlieu  to  grow  dizzy  as  lie  came  down  the  steep  hill-side ;  and 
Janet,  the  loving  wife,  used  to  watch  more  anxiously  than  in  old  times, 
if  he  did  not  return  at  the  accustomed  hour;  for,  as  she  said  to  Alick, 
the  eldest  hoy,  one  day:  "Love's  eyes  are  keen,  Alick.  I  know  your 
father  is  failing.  I  must  take  you  from  the  school,  my  man,  and  you 
must  help  to  keep  the  sheep." 

Alick,  like  many  a  Scotch  boj",  loved  his  books,  and  I  am  not  sure  that 
he  relislied  the  idea  of  keeping  sheep.  He  was  just  thirteen,  and  he  was 
a  bright,  clever  lad.  Visions  he  might  have  had  of  being  a  great  man 
some  day;  at  least  the  village  schoolmaster  had  said  he  might  be  so. 
But  no,  he  must  go  and  tend  sheep  and  follow  his  father's  calling.  lie 
wished  from  his  heart  that  the  elder  ones  were  not  girls,  for  now  on  him 
fell  all  the  weiglit  of  the  service.  "  But  wishing  is  of  no  use,  Alick ;  you 
must  just  go  with  your  father,"  said  Janet,  sadly,  "  and  learn  his  waj's 
•with  the  sheep." 

"VYinter's  frosts  came  on,  and  the  old  man  (old  before  liis  time)  was 
chilled  more  and  more  ;  and  one  Sabbath  morning  he  said  to  his  wife, 
"Janet,  I  canna  go  to  the  kirk  to-day;  I  must  e'en  rest  and  keep  my 
Sabbath  at  hame.  God  can  bless  me  here,  for  he  kens  my  will  is  gude." 
And  he  did  keep  his  Sabbath  at  home.  Ilis  place  was  empty  in  the  old 
kirk,  and  Alick  resolved  from  that  hour  to  sacrifice  his  wishes  to  his 
father's  comfort.  So  at  night  he  said,  "  Father,  let  me  go  out  instead  of 
jon  to-morrow.  I  think  the  sheep  will  be  safe  with  me,  and  I  will  fold 
them  at  night.     I  will  be  very  careful,  father." 

The  father  shook  his  head ;  but  when  morning  came  he  was  weak  and 
ill,  and  sent  the  lad  to  the  fold  with  a  sad  and  doubtful  heart.  It  was  a 
bright  cold  day  in  March,  and  the  work  was  dreary  enough.  A  lick's 
hands  were  pinched  with  cold,  and  the  duties  of  a  shepherd  were  not  to 
his  taste.  Winds  blew  as  winds  rarely  do  blow  but  among  Scotch  moun- 
tains, and  the  sheep,  instead  of  heeding  his  voice,  fled  away  when  he 
spoke,  for  they  knew  him  not.  A  strange  dog  too,  belonging  to  a  neigh- 
bouring shepherd,  came  and  scattered  them,  and  it  was  of  no  use  for 


120  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

poor  Alick  to  hunt  for  Lis  sheep,  for  he  scai'coly  knew  cue  from  another. 
At  last  he  called  in  the  help  of  an  old  shepherd  on  an  opposite  hill.  His 
dog  it  was  that  had  broken  in  amongst  the  flock ;  and  by  the  time  the 
sun  had  set  all  were  found  but  one.     One  was  missing. 

"How  have  you  sped  to-day,  Aliek,  my  lad?"  said  his  father,  as  the 
bo}-,  sad  and  tired,, returned  to  his  home  that  night. 

"Ill,  very  ill,  father;  the  sheep  would  not  hear  me,  nor  follow  me,  nor 
be  driven  by  me;  but  as  soon  as  I  went  near  they  all  scampered  away. 
"What  can  be  the  reason,  father?  I  tried  all  ways ;  I  coaxed,  and  scolded, 
and  whistled,  and  tried  the  pipe,  but  they  would  not  hear  me.  Ah !  I 
don't  like  shepherding,  father,  and  the  sheep,  they  seem  to  me  stupid 
kind  of  boasts.     I  don't  like  sheep." 

"Aye,  lad,  you  have  told  the  secret  now;  you  don't  love  the  sheep. 
Home  is  sweeter  to  you,  Alick,  than  the  hill-side,  and  the  book  and  the 
learning  better  still.  You  will  not  do  for  a  shepherd's  boy,  that  is  plain. 
Put  listen  now,  Alick ;  tins  day  upon  the  hills  may  teach  thee  a  great 
lesson  ;  naj',  don't  shake  thy  head,  boy  —  I  will  not  send  thee  again  — 
but  listen  to  the  lesson  for  all  that.  Who  was  it  that  left  his  home  of 
holiness  above,  to  come  and  fold  his  sheep — worse  sheep  than  thine, 
Alick,  and  wandering  further  too?" 

The  boy  bowed  his  head  and  whispered,  "Jesus." 

"  Aye,  Jesus,  my  lad.  Is  thy  book  dearer  to  thee,  thiukest  thou,  than 
the  praises  of  angels  and  the  love  of  the  Father,  in  the  joy  of  which  Jesus 
had  lived  from  before  the  beginning  of  the  world?" 

"No,  father,"  was  Alick's  answer. 

"Was  your  heart  full  of  love  to  the  poor,  helpless,  erring  things  when, 
as  you  said,  you  called,  coaxed,  and  shouted  ?  And  when  the  dog  came, 
didst  thou  ward  him  off",  face  him,  and  take  up  thy  crook?" 

"Nay,  father,  I  ran  away." 

"Ah !  Alick,  when  Satan  tempted  Jesus,  he,  for  the  sake  of  his  sheep, 
fainted  not.  When  ho  was  loft  alone  and  all  his  disciples  fled,  he,  for- 
saken as  ho  was,  prayed  in  an  agony  for  his  sheei),  his  children,  whom 


AND     I  X  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  X  .  121 

lie  liad  conic  to  save.  And  at  last,  when  wicked  men  laid  hands  upon 
him,  he  meekly  gave  up  his  life.  Ko  man  took  it  from  him,  for  he  had 
power  to  take  it  again;  hut  ho  died  to  save  his  sheep.  Wilt  thoii  not 
love  Jesus  Christ?  wilt  thou  not  follow  him  as  the  Good  Shcplicrd?" 

The  hoy  was  melted,  and  hy  his  hed-side  that  night  he  did  pray  to  bo 
guided  by  Ilira  alone. 

At  five  o'clock  the  next  morning  ho  was  dressed  and  reading  his  little 
Bible  by  the  faint  light  of  a  rush  candle.  At  six  he  was  on  his  way  to 
the  fold.  The  seed  fell  on  good  ground.  Alick  was  from  that  day  a 
hoy  of  prayer  and  faith.  If  a  shepherd's  life  were  not  quite  to  his  taste, 
he  remembered  that  the  Good  Shepherd  pleased  not  himself,  and  he  did 
not  repine. 

It  was  a  May  evening,  bright  and  lovely ;  the  storms  wore  all  hushed, 
the  young  Iambs  were  bleating,  and,  remembering  the  Scripture  words, 
and  his  father's  example,  of  tending  the  weak  and  little  ones  of  the  tlock, 
Alick  had  carried  one  sickly  lamb,  whose  mother  had  died,  to  his  home, 
tliero  to  bo  nursed  and  carod  for.  As  he  bore  it  in  his  bosom,  he  softly 
murmured  those  words  in  the  silence  of  the  blue  hills,  "He  shall  carry 
the  lambs  iu  his  arms." 

When  he  opened  the  cottage  door,  the  kitchen  was  emptj- ;  but  for 
the  presence  of  the  two  j-ounger  children,  there  was  a  solemn  hush  iu 
the  house.  The  mother's  seat  was  cmpt}-,  and  one  of  the  little  girls  said, 
in  a  solemn  voice,  "Father's  worse." 

It  was  the  work  of  a  moment  to  lay  the  lamb  on  the  Ijcarth,  and  to 
rush  into  the  sick  room.  It  was  a  dying  room.  Long  had  Jamie  Arm- 
strong's song  been,  "The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,  I  shall  not  want;"  and 
now  in  the  hour  of  death,  as  his  son  stood  by  his  bed-side,  he  heard  him 
whisper,  "When  I  pass  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will 
fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  witli  me." 

He  opened  his  eyes  when  Alick  took  his  cold  hand,  and  said,  "Follow 
the  Good  Shepherd,  my  lad;  he  has  given  his  life  for  the  sheep,  and  still 
liveth  for  them."     And  so  ho  died. 


122  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

Alick  never  left  liis  mountaiti  life;  and  day  by  daj',  as  lie  tended  his 
flock,  he  remembered  the  first  great  lesson  of  love  to  the  Saviour,  and 
now  loves  to  lead  other  wandering  sheep  into  the  fold,  and  to  tell  the 
story  of  the  Good  Shepherd. 


p,  all  ye  that  labour,  and  arc  heavy  ladon,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." — Matt.  xi.  28. 

And  I  will  give  you  rest ! 
The  gracious  Saviour  to  my  weary  soul 
Doth  promise  rest  —  for  wliich  I've  sought  in  rain. 
I've  tried  the  world,  it's  promi.ses  are  false; 
Riches  mny  nialce  them  wings  and  flee  away; 
But  thou,  my  8aviour,  full  of  grace  and  truth, 
Almighty  aud  all-merciful  to  save. 
Thy  love  alone  this  aching  void  can  fill. 

And  I  xcifl  give  you  rest ! 
Then,  Lord,  thy  promise  I   can  never  doubt; 
For  all  thy  words  are  sure,  and  my  tried  soul 
Will  rest  on  this'  assured  hope,  and  fix 
My  trust,  my  joy,  my  confidence  in  thee. 
For  heaven  and  earth  may  pass  away,  nor  yet 
One  jot  or  tittle  of  thy  sovereign  will 
Shall  pass  away,  till  all  shall  be  fulfilled. 

And  I  will  give  you  rest ! 
Then,  Lord,  I  come,  though  in  my  hand  I  bear 
No  price  to  buy,  no  merit  to  deserve. 
How  rich  the  gift,  unmerited  as  free, 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  12? 

So  rich  that  all  the  worlJ  doth  not  eontaiu 
Treasure  enough  to  purchase  such  a  gift, 
So  undeserved,  that  my  poor  sinful  soul 
Is  lost  in  wonder,  gratitude  and  love. 

And  I  will  give  you  rest ! 
Thou  knowest,  Lord,  how  much  that  rest  I  need; 
How  luy  poor  soul  is  weary  with  the  strife 
Of  sins  within,  temptations  from  without, 
Whose  fierce  contention  none  but  thou  canst  quell. 
And  is  this  promise  mine  ?  and  can  I  hope 
That  one  so  vile  and  sinful  as  I  am, 
May  claim  this  precious  promise  as  my  own  ? 

And  I  will  give  you  rest  I 
No  more  shall  gloomy  doubts  beset  my  mind; 
No  longer  will  I  seek  from  carnal  things 
That  peace  and  joy  the  world  can  never  give. 
To  thee  alone,  my  Saviour,  will  I  look; 
Receive  my  heart,  unworthy  though  it  be; 
This  only   sacrifice  I  dare  to  bring; 
Take  it  0  !  Lord,  and  seal  it  for  thine  own. 


124  PORTFOLIO     OF    ENTERTAINMENT 


'TaliittlTing  for  tire  l^hrning. 


MISSIONS    IN    SEW    ZEALAND    AND    EAST    AFRICA. 


'^^S!^^       0  ye  into  all  tlic  world,  and  preach  the  gospel 
to  every  creature."     Here  is  the  base  of  that  dif- 


mi) 


^         '  fusive  chanty  which  is  the  life  of  missions  to  the 

Ib^V-X^^JjM^  heathen.  The  command  would  have  sufficed  to 
:^^^i^^^^c|^^  point  the  path  of  duty,  irrespective  of  results. 
/ /('^  '■  But  we  have  also  tlnit  hlessed  promise  wliich  in- 
vests us  with  the  highest  privilege,  as  "  fellow-workers  with  God."  "Lo, 
I  am  with  you  ahvay,  unto  the  end  of  the  world."  Aud  it  is  worth 
noting,  that  the  promise  is  confirmed  by  an  "  amen." 

How  instructive  the  experience  of  those  who  have  gone  out  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  command  !  The  evidence  of  the  Saviour's  promised  presence 
has  often  been  long  withheld  ;  the  messenger  has  "  waited  for  the  Lord 
more  than  they  that  watch  for  the  morning."  And  yet  the  presence  has 
been  surely  there,  if  only  to  give  the  needful  "patience  of  hope."  At 
last,  also,  though  perhaps  tardily  to  our  poor  apprehension,  the  morning 
has  come,  and  joy  with  it,  however  weeping  may  have  been  the  portion 
of  the  night.     Take  an  instance. 

The  first  missionaries  reached  New  Zealand  in  1814.  For  manyj-ears 
they  lived,  securely  indeed,  but  ridiculed  and  sorely  tried,  in  the  midst 
of  savage  cannibals  They  sowed  the  seed,  but  it  seemed  to  be  trodden 
under-foot.  Unlike  the  labourer  in  natural  husbandry,  who  is  cpiickly 
cheered  by  the  up-springing  of  the  blade,  these  spiritual  husbandmen 
saw  only  the  seed's  decay.  It  "died,  and  gave  no  sign."  So  at  least  it 
seemed.  But  the  bread  was  "found  after  many  dajs"  —  bread  indeed, 
almost  without  any  appearance  of  the  intermediate  corn.  The  mission- 
ar}',  Henry  Williams,  was  compelled  to  write  in  March,  1825 :    "  The 


A  N  D     I  N  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  N .  125 

natives  are  as  dead  and  insensible  to  tlie  necessity  of  redemption  as  tlio 
very  brutes.  On  Sunday  we  asked  a  diief  why  tlie  people  did  not 
attend,  as  they  knew  we  were  coming.  lie  replied,  they  did  not  care 
about  such  things :  all  they  thought  of  was  eating  and  drinking  and 
fighting.  He  had  told  them,  but  they  would  not  come :  if  we  had  come 
to  talk  about  anything  else,  or  to  trade,  we  should  have  had  numbers. 
Speaking  on  the  work  of  redemption,  they  said  they  could  not  under- 
stand it ;  and  immediately  retired  into  their  dark  abodes,  utterly  regard- 
less of  what  was  said.  The  dominion  of  Satan  was  never  more  visible 
to  me,  and  that  this  great  work  can  be  accomplished  only  by  the  divine 
power." 

That  power  was  about  to  bo  put  forth.  As  just  before  the  dawn  of 
the  natural  morning  the  gloom  is  deepest,  so  in  'New  Zealand  the  spirit- 
ual darkness  just  described  heralded  the  first  streak  of  heavenly  light. 
Six  months  later,  on  the  10th  of  September,  Mr.  Williams  wrote :  — 

"  The  natives  are  now  urgent  for  our  visits  on  the  Sabbath,  and  pro- 
fess to  abstain  from  work  on  that  day.  We  trust,  too,  that  a  breach  has 
been  accomplished  in  the  stronghold  of  the  great  enemy  of  souls,  by  the 
arm  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  One  foundation  stone  is  removed,  and  more 
are  loosened  around.  There  are  many  circumstances  which  combine  to 
strengthen  our  hopes  that  the  glorious  rising  of  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
ness will  soon  be  seen  in  this  land." 

And  now  as  to  the  '■'■foundation  stone"  that  had  been  "  removed."  For 
a  year  and  a  half  the  missionaries  had  visited  on  Sundays  an  old  chief 
named  Rangi.  The  old  man  used  to  hoist  a  red  cloth  flag  as  a  signal  to 
his  people  that  "  the  sacred  day"  had  come  round.  In  Julj^,  1825,  he 
became  ill.  "  What  are  j'our  thoughts  of  death  ?"  he  was  asked.  "My 
thoughts  are  continually  in  heaven.  In  the  morning,  in  the  daytime, 
and  at  night,  they  are  continually  there.  My  belief  is  in  the  great  God 
and  in  Jesus  Christ." 

The  missionary  asked  if  he  was  never  tempted  to  doubt.  lie  con- 
fessed that  he  was  so  tempted.     The  issue,  however,  could  not  be  doubt- 


12C  rORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAIN  ME  XT 

fill,  fur  lie  added  :  "  I  pray  several  times  in  tlie  day.  I  ask  God  to  give 
me  Lis  Spirit  in  my  lieart,  to  dwell  there."  In  August  baptism  was 
liinted  to  him.  "Attend  now  to  what  I  am  going  to  say  to  you.  The 
people  who  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  ai-e  called  after  him,  Christians ;  but 
those  who  do  not  believe  are  called  heathen.  Those  who  believe,  take 
Jesus  Christ's  name  as  a  sign  that  their  hearts  are  washed  in  his  blood." 
The  old  chief  appeared  much  pleased,  and  wished  to  be  called  after  Jesus 
Christ. 

On  the  14th  of  September  it  was  reported  to  the  missionaries  that  poor 
Rangi  was  dead.  On  immediately  proceeding  to  his  hut,  however,  lie 
was  found  to  be  still  alive,  though  it  was  clear  he  could  not  live  long. 
In  a  faint  voice  he  took  part  in  the  following  precious  and  touching 
dialogue. 

"Well,  friend,  how  do  you  find  yourself?" 

"I  shall  soon  be  dead." 

"  What  are  your  thoughts  of  heaven  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  heart  is  very,  very  full  of  light." 

"  What  makes  your  heart  so  very  full  of  light  ?" 

"Because  of  my  belief  in  Jehovah  and  Jesus  Christ." 

"And  are  you  still  firm  in  your  belief  in  Jesus  Christ?" 

"Have  I  not  told  you,  over  and  over  again,  that  my  belief  is  stead- 
fiast?" 

"Have  yon  no  fear  of  death  before  you?" 

"No,  none  —  not  in  the  least." 

"We  are  happy  to  find  that.  All  real  believers  rejoice  in  the  pros- 
pect of  death,  knowing  that  their  pains  are  all  then  ended." 

"Aj-e  !  I  shall  go  and  sit  above  the  sky  with  Jesus  Christ." 

"Have  you  forgotten  what  was  told  you,  some  time  since,  respecting 
the  name  which  is  given  to  all  those  who  believe  in  Jesus  Christ?" 

"  I  have  forgotten  the  name,  but  I  have  not  forgotten  the  circumstance. 
It  is  fast  in  my  heart." 

"How  should  you  like  to  be  called  bv  that  name?" 


AND     I  X  S  T  K  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  127 

"I  sliouki  like  it  veiT  much  indeed." 

The  four  missionaries  who  were  present  now  consulted  whether  Rangi 
was  not  a  fit  subject  for  baptism.  "We  had  observed  him,"  they  say, 
"  for  many  months,  and  had  watched  his  behaviour  and  character.  Each 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  more  satisfactory  evidence  could  not  be  ex- 
pected in  the  early  state  of  things  here.  His  steadfastness  on  the  verge 
of  the  grave,  and  his  firm  resistance  of  all  the  native  superstitious  pecu- 
liar to  his  present  situation,  satisfied  us  that  he  ought  to  be  baptized." 
We  think  our  readers  will  be  abundantly  satisfied  too.  One  cannot 
blame  the  missionaries  for  very  great  anxiety  that  the  first  'New  Zealand 
convert  might  be  a  genuine  one ;  but  there  is  a  possibility  of  erring  in 
this  matter  on  the  side  of  too  much  caution.  Intelligent  profession 
must  satisfy  us.  We  need  to  be  careful  lest  we  seem  to  usurp  the  func- 
tions of  Him  who  alone  is  the  Searcher  of  hearts. 

And  so  Raugi  was  admitted  into  the  visible  church  by  the  name  of 
"  Christian,"  which  he  repeated  several  times  with  energy.  The  next 
night  he  died. 

"Watching  for  the  morning"  from  1814  to  1825 !  What  is  Kew  Zea- 
land now?  On  the  2Gth  of  May,  1854,  Sir  George  Grey,  the  late  gov- 
ernor, said:  "Out  of  the  native  population,  estimated  by  himself  at 
nearly  one  hundred  thousand,  there  were  not  more  than  one  thousand 
who  did  not  make  a  profession  of  Christianity."  The  dawn  has  in- 
creased almost  "  unto  the  perfect  day."  To  the  Light  of  Life  be  all  the 
praise ! 

Turn  we  now  to  the  eastern  coast  of  Africa.  The  Church  Missionary 
Society  has  a  station  there  —  the  fruit  of  much  travail,  and  therefore, 
perhaps,  an  object  of  the  more  aflectionate  solicitude.  In  November, 
1837,  the  Rev.  John  L.  Krapf  joined  the  society's  mission  in  Abyssinia. 
One  of  his  last  adventures  tliere  was  his  imprisonment  by  a  treacherous 
Galla  chief:  his  life,  however,  which  there  is  reason  to  think  was  in  no 
little  danger,  was  mercifully  preserved. 

But  the  Abyssinian  mission  drew  towards  a  premature  close.     In  Sep- 


VIS  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  N  T  E  K  T  A  I  N  M  E  KT 

tember,  1842,  there  was  a  meeting  at  Alexautli-ia  of  the  three  mission- 
arieis,  Krapf,  Iseuberg,  and  Muhleisen,  who  now  proposed — Krapf 
Laving  just  married  —  to  re-euter  Abyssinia  after  a  term  of  absence. 
They  were  eventually  unable  to  do  so,  the  king  of  Shoa  refusing  his 
permission. 

The  first  germ  of  the  East  Africa  mission  now  appears.  Erapf  went 
to  Aden,  on  his  way  to  Zanzibar,  in  tlie  hope  of  reaching  the  Gallas 
from  thence.  Arriving  at  Aden,  in  April,  1843,  he  found  he  could  not 
leave  for  Zanzibar  until  October.  The  interval  was  spent  in  a  missionary 
journey  to  Massowah.  On  their  way,  they  had  a  foretaste  of  the  afilic- 
tions  that  awaited  them.  They  had  pitched  their  tent  at  a  place  called 
Mashen,  having  for  their  companions  only  the  noisy  Shoho  people. 
Here  Mrs.  Krapf  was  confined,  the  child  living  only  an  hour — "where- 
fore," says  Krapf,  "we  called  its  name  Eneba,  the  Amharic  for  'Tear.' 
It  shall  remind  us  of  our  whole  tearful  course  of  life  since  we  left  Egypt. 
With  heartfelt  pain  we  buried  the  child  in  the  evening,  under  a  tree  in 
the  vicinity  of  our  tent."  Three  days  afterwards  they  left  the  place. 
"It  will  always  be,"  Krapf  adds,  "an  Ebenezer  to  us.  Truly  the  Lord 
is  a  faithful  God,  who  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  us  if  we  trust  in  him." 
Other  trust  than  this  would  indeed  have  been  but  a  sorry  support. 

Returning  to  Aden,  Dr.  Krapf  and  his  wife  sailed  for  Zanzibar,  in 
November,  on  board  an  Arab  vessel.  Three  days  afterwards  a  storm 
came  on,  and  the  craft  si:irung  a  leak.  Her  head  was  turned  towards 
Aden,  but  there  seemed  little  hope  of  reaching  it.  "  The  serious  idea," 
Krapf  writes,  "that  we  should  find  a  watery  grave,  gained  much  ground 
in  our  minds.  My  dear  wife  and  myself  repaired  to  our  cabin,  recom- 
mending our  bodies  and  souls,  our  dear  friends  at  home,  the  whole  mis- 
sion cause,  and  especially  our  Galla  mission,  to  the  gracious  protection 
of  the  Lord."  Nearing  the  harbour,  a  bark  came  within  hail;  and  partly 
by  promises,  partly  by  threats,  Dr.  Krapf  prevailed  on  them  to  take  him- 
self and  wife,  with  their  baggage,  on  board.  "  They  would  by  no  means 
receive  the  captain's  baggage,  nor  any  one  of  his  crew.     .     .     .     Soon 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  129 

after  we  had  left  our  leaky  vessel  she  overturned,'  the  mast  lying  in  the 
water,  and  the  whole  bark  floating  on  the  sea  like  a  piece  of  wood." 

Nothing  daunted,  however,  the  missionary  and  his  wife  re-embarked, 
in  even  a  smaller  native  vessel,  within  a  fortnight.  "My  sole  object," 
Krapf  wrote,  "  was  to  depart.  The  rest  was  to  be  settled  in  secret  prayer 
between  me  and  my  gracious  God,  who  alone  could  effect  our  safety." 
Zanzibar  was  reached  Jan.  7,  1844.  Thence  the  devoted  pair  proceeded 
to  the  island  of  Mombas,  arriving  in  May. 

And  now  came  another  "fiery  trial."  On  tlie  6th  of  July  Mrs.  Krapf 
was  confined,  and  a  week  afterwards,  while  her  husband  was  chained  by 
fever  to  his  bed,  it  pleased  God  to  call  her  to  himself.  "  She  begged 
me,"  Dr.  Krapf  wrote,  "  to  give  her  friends  a  true  account  of  her  last 
moments,  and  not  to  describe  her  in  a  light  incompatible  with  strict 
truth.  She  charged  me  especially  to  tell  rtll  her  friends  that  they  should 
be  true  and  sincere  in  their  Christian  profession,  as  there  was  so  much 
untruth  in  one's  mind,  which  the  scrutiny  of  dying  moments  would  bring 
to  light.  As  to  herself,  I  should  tell  her  friends  that  the  Saviour  had 
looked  mercifully  upon  her,  and  that  she  departed  as  a  poor  and  miser- 
able sinner."  On  the  14th  she  was  buried,  "on  the  mainland,  by  her 
own  express  wish,  as  she  desired  to  remind  the  pagan  "Wanika,  who 
frequently  pass  the  road  by  her  tomb,  of  the  object  which  had  brought 
her  and  myself  to  this  country."  That  same  night  the  child  died,  and 
on  the  loth  was  laid  with  the  mother.  "  The  Lord  gave  them  to  me  for 
a  time,"  Dr.  Krapf  wrote,  "and  he  has  taken  them  again.  His  name 
be  glorified  for  ever  and  ever  !  I  would  not  wish  that  he  had  otherwise 
dealt  with  me  and  my  departed  familj',  for  his  stroke  is  a  blessing,  and 
his  chastisement  is  glory  throughout." 

In  missionary  excursions,  illness,  translations,  &c..  Dr.  Krapf 's  time  was 
passed  till  June,  1846,  when  a  brother-labourer  joined  him  —  Mr.  Reb- 
mann.  Up  to  this  time  Dr.  Krapf  had  resided  at  Mombas,  but  now  a 
settlement  was  effected  on  the  main  —  at  New  Rabbai,  a  village  "set  on  ' 
a  hill"  some  miles  inland  from  Bombas.  On  the  25th  of  August  they 
9 


130  PORTFOLIO     OF    EXTERTAIXJMENT 

wont  to  take  possession,  of  which  Dr.  Ej-apf  relates :  "  The  cold  stage  of 
fever  had  already  commenced  when  we  started,  and  I  was  shivering  in  a 
high  degree.  But  I  said  in  my  heart,  the  mission  must  he  commenced: 
should  life  or  death  result  to  me,  I  can  now  have  no  regard  to  sickness 
whatever.  .  .  .  With  great  difEculty,  and  suflering  violent  pain,  I 
ascended  the  steep  mount  on  which  ISTew  Eahbai  is  situated.  I  think  that 
scarcely  any  other  mission  can  have  been  commenced  in  greater  weak- 
ness. The  Lord  pleased  to  try  us,  whether  we  would  love  our  own 
comforts  and  lives  more  than  his  cause  and  glory.  Xo  natural  e^-e 
can  see  or  understand  this  plan.  Everybody  would  have  thought  us  to 
be  mad ;  but  we  know  that  no  truly  Divine  work  has  ever  been,  nor  ever 
will  be,  accomplished,  unless  the  human  agency  through  which  it  is 
carried  out  has  passed  through  many  and  great  tribulations." 

The  people  among  whom  the  missionaries  thus  settled  were  the 
Wanika  —  "a  lying,  talking,  drinking,  superstitious,  selfish,  and  totall}'- 
earthly-minded  people."  On  the  other  hand.  Dr.  Krapf  describes  them 
as  being  men  of  peace,  attentive  to  their  sick,  and  honest. 

In  building  a  cottage  and  in  other  matters  much  vexation  had  to  be 
endured,  on  which  Dr.  Krapf  remarked :  "  Without  a  cross,  the  mission- 
ary is  sure  to  become  a  fine  gentleman,  losing  his  unction  from  on  high, 
and  seeking  for  external  comforts.  Let  there  rather  be  a  rain  of  sick- 
ness, starvation,  prisons,  and  all  sorts  of  suiFerings,  than  lose  my  spiritual 
life  in  the  missionary  career." 

Important  missionary  journeys  were  made,  in  18-17  and  1848,  into 
countries  hitherto  untrodden  by  European  feet.  And  now  we  come  to 
that  which  amply  repaid  all  the  labour  and  trials  we  have  above  de- 
scribed. On  the  31st  of  May,  1848,  a  Mnika  (pi.  Wanika)  cripple 
named  Mringa  had  the  gospel  proclaimed  to  him  by  Dr.  Krapf,  as  hun- 
dreds of  others  had  had  it  proclaimed  to  them.  A  few  days  afterwards 
Dr.  Krapf  records  that  he  was  greatly  cast  down ;  the  stubbornness  of  the 
Wanika  spread  a  deep  gloom  over  him.  On  the  next  day  Mringa  came, 
and  the  missionary  rejoiced  that  there  was  "  a  soul  which  would  at  least 


A  X  D     I  X  S  T  K  U  C  T  I  0  X  .  131 

listen  to  tlie  truth."  Gradually  the  heart  of  Mriiiga  opened,  and  on  the 
2d  of  December  he  gave  a  proof  that  he  was  in  earnest  by  cutting  from 
his  neck  a  string  of  beads  used  for  superstitious  puqioses.  "We  sat 
under  the  shadow  of  a  tree,"  Dr.  Krapf  relates,  "when  this  happened. 
How  unsightly  are  often  the  beginnings  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  a 
country !  like  a  little  tree  rising  out  of  its  hidden  roots.  A  Mnika 
cripple — nowise,  no  mighty,  nor  noble  man  of  this  world  —  performs 
an  act  worthy  of  the  gaze  of  angels ;  for  be  thus  declared  to  serve  the 
living  God,  and  no  more  the  idols  of  his  countrymen.  ...  On  my 
wav  home  I  thought  within  myself,  it  is  worth  trouble  to  seek  for  lost 
souls,  and  wait  for  them  till  the  Lord's  hour  is  come  to  enlighten  them 
with  his  marvellous  light." 

In  June,  1849,  two  other  labourers  joined  the  mission,  but  one  was 
carried  off  by  fever  in  a  few  weeks.  Other  journeys  also  were  imder- 
takeu,  and  in  April,  1850,  Dr.  Krapf  left  the  station  on  a  visit  to  Europe; 
Mringa  remaining  "in  a  satisfactory  frame  of  mind."  Mr.  Eebmann 
now  attended  to  the  poor  fellow's  instruction.  A  cancer  from  which  he 
had  long  suiFered  was  rapidly  progressing,  and  it  became  clear  he  would 
not  live  long.  "His  behaviour,  taken  as  a  whole,"  Mr.  Eebmann  wrote, 
"  and  especially  the  mentioning  of  particular  sins  in  his  youth,  the 
remembrance  of  which  ho  said  ached  him  ;  his  decided  refusal  of  the 
country- medicines,  as  being  almost  invariably  connected  with  sorcery; 
his  willingness  to  make  an  open  confession  of  his  faith ;  and  his  readi- 
ness to  die,  convinced  me  that  he  was,  though  a  weak,  yet  a  real  believer 
in  Christ,  and  therefore  entitled  to  baptism." 

On  the  24th  of  November,  a  little  before  sunset,  a  small  company 
assembled  in  the  open  air,  before  Mringa's  hut,  and  he  was  baptized. 
Johanuesi,  as  he  was  called,  had  now  "no  wish  but  to  go  to  Jesus." 
That  wish  was  soon  gratified,  for  in  little  more  than  a  week  he  was  called 
to  be  for  ever  with  his  newly  confessed  Lord. 

Trials  still  awaited  the  mission.  Dr.  Krapf  left  England  in  January, 
1851,  accompanied  by  two  missionaries,  and  at  Trieste  they  were  joined 


132  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  X  T  E  K  T  A  I  X  JI  i:  X  T 

by  three  mechanics.  At  Aden  one  of  the  missionaries  declined  to  proceed 
further.  The  otliers  reached  Mombas  on  the  2d  of  April.  On  the  10th 
of  May,  the  new  missionary  died,  and  a  few  months  afterwards  two  of 
the  mechanics  were  compelled  by  ill-health  to  return  to  Europe.  Other 
missionary  jouruej's,  however,  continued  to  be  made,  and  in  one  of  these 
Dr.  Krapf  was  in  imminent  danger  of  his  life.  The  privations  he  endured 
so  affected  his  health  that  lie  was  compelled  to  revisit  home  at  the  end 
of  185.3.  Meanwhile,  in  August  of  that  year,  one  of  the  missionaries  left 
New  Eabbai  for  a  station  in  the  interior,  the  king  of  the  place  having 
invited  him.  He  was  compelled,  however,  to  resign  the  post  in  the  fol- 
lowing Ifovember. 

Ten  years'  labour,  three  deaths,  other  trials  innumerable,  and  but  one 
decided  convert  to  Christ ! 

Such  a  state  of  things  seems  to  the  worldly  mind  but  a  poor  result  of 
so  groat  an  expenditure  of  time,  labour,  and  mone3\  Let  us  hear,  how- 
ever, what  Dr.  Krapf  says  on  the  subject.  "Kever  mind  the  victims 
which  may  fall  or  suffer  in  this  glorious  combat.  Onl}'  carrj'  it  forward 
till  the  east  and  west  of  Africa  be  united  in  the  bonds  of  Christ !"  It  is 
in  truth  the  period  of  watching  for  the  morning;  and  the  darkness  that 
covers  the  land  may  be  preceding  a  glorious  effulgence  of  tlie  Sun  of 
righteousness.  In  attem2:)ting  to  bring  the  heathen  in,  we  must  throw 
time  out  of  our  calculations.  There  is  no  such  thing  with  the  Lord.  What 
are  ten  years  to  him,  with  whom  all  the  past  and  future  are  alike  pre- 
sent ?  At  any  moment  the  "  set  time"  for  East  Africa  may  come.  For 
it  rec[uires  no  gi'eater  power  to  bring  about  the  brightness  of  a  spiritual 
noonday,  than  has  already  been  exerted  in  the  turning  of  the  one  con- 
vert named  above,  Mringa,  "from  darkness  to  light,  and  from  the  power 
of  Satan  unto  God."  Such  as  New  Zealand  is,  and  more,  soon  may 
East  Africa  be  !  [Meanwhile  let  Christians  be  fervent  in  their  supplica- 
tions for  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 


--  ^^^r?;-^'^ 


.\i^ 


The  Palm-Tree. 


AND    I  N  S  T  n  U  C  T  I  0  N , 


133 


^\n  "§i\\\]\-Z.xtt. 


T      ^'^A       NE  of  the  most  graceful  trees  in  tlie  world  is  tlie 
I^a'    Palm.    Ileber  employs  it  as  a  symbol  of  the  temple: 

''.^'l^  "No  workman's  steel,  no  ponderous  axes  runj;; 

"k  '         -'S'-i^''*?  ■'-'''"'  some  tall  palm  the  noiseless  fabric  sprung." 

"^  /IT^^  The  Romans  regarded  it  as  a  symbol  of  Palestine ; 
so  that  in  the  medal  which  was  struck  by  Vespasian  to  commemorate 
the  capture  of  Jiulffia,  he  placed  on  one  side  a  palm,  with  the  weeping 
figure  of  a  woman  sitting  at  its  base.  Around  is  written,  "  Judita  Capta." 
Some  of  the  finest  of  sculptures  brought  from  Nineveh  are  reiu'eseutations 
of  this  tree.  It  was  evidently  an  object  of  admiration  tliroughout  all 
the  east. 

Let  us  see  if  it  has  not  lessons  for  ourselves. 

It  grows  in  the  desert,  not  in  the  depth  of  the  forest,  or  in  a  fertile 
loam.  It  seems  often  to  spring  from  the  scorching  dust.  A  little  closer 
inspection,  however,  or  at  most  the  removal  of  a  spadeful  of  eartli,  unveils 
the  secret  source  of  its  verdure.  It  lives  on  the  moisture  which  is  already 
trickling  down  into  this  pool.  "The  palm  is  in  this  respect,"  says 
Laborde,  "bke  a  friendly  lighthouse,  guiding  the  traveller  to  the  sjiot 
where  water  is  to  be  found."  You  may  mark  the  greenness  of  its 
feathery  leaves.     They  never  fade,  and  the  dust  never  settles  upon  them. 

Mark  also  its  beauty,  its  erect  aspiring  growth,  its  waving  [ilumes,  the 
emblem  of  praise  in  all  nations.  You  now  understand  why  it  was 
twisted  into  the  booths  at  the  feast  of  tabernacles,  was  borne  aloft  by  the 
crowds  that  welcomed  the  Messiah  to  Jerusalem  (.Tolm  xii.  lo),  and  is 
represented  as  in  the  hands  of  the  redeemed  in  heaven  (Rev.  vii.  tl). 

For  usefulness,  it  is  unrivalled.  Its  shade  refreshes  the  traveller.  Its 
fruit  restores  his  strength.    When  his  soul  is  failing  for  thirst,  it  an- 


134: 


PORTFOLIO     OF     EXTEKTAIXJIENT 


iiouuees  water.  Its  stones  feed  liis  camels.  Its  leaves  form  his  bed. 
Its  boughs  he  carries  home  for  fences,  and  its  fibres  for  ropes  or  risfging. 
Its  best  fruit,  moreover,  is  borne  in  old  age. 

A  symbol  of  the  temple  did  wo  call  it?  or  of  Juda?a?  May  we  not 
seek  its  representative  nearer  to  us?  Ought  we  not  to  find  it  in  our- 
selves? Glance  again  at  the  place,  and  the  means  of  its  growth,  the 
unsullied  verdure  of  its  leaty  canopy,  its  ji.iyous  movements,  its  innumer- 
able uses,  and  take  home  the  lesson  —  "the  righteous  shall  flourish  like 
the  palm-tree." 


fire  ^\ost  .§,on  founh 


EXTKACT     FEOM    A    MISSION  ART     JOURNAL. 


■EAUY  and  worn;  sad  and  solitary;  thousands 
of  miles  fVom  home  and  friends;  alone  in  this 
moral  wilderness ;  apparently  labouring  in  vain, 
and  spending  strength  for  nought !  N"ay,  but 
'  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  oh,  my  soul,  and  why 
art  thou  disquieted  witliin  me?  Hope  in  God, 
for  I  shall  ^-et  praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance,  and  my 
God?'  He  has  said,  'My  word  shall  not  return  unto  me  void,  but  it 
shall  accomplish  that  which  I  please,  and  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I 
sent  it.'  Do  I  not  believe  this  ?  Lord,  I  believe :  help  thou  my  un- 
belief," 

"Another  day  gone  :  another  day's  work  done  ;  and  not  without  some 
encouragement  to  sow  beside  all  waters.  Preached  this  morning,  with 
a  stammering  tongue,  to  the  poor  heathen,  in  their  own  language. 
Some  derided,  but  others   listened  and  went   away  thoughtful.     The 


A  X  D    I X  s  T  R  r  C  T  I  0  X .  135 

native  school  flourishes.  I  went,  tliis  afternoon,  to  see  a  jioor  man  wlio 
is  sick  of  a  fever.  Many  were  gathered  round  the  door  to  see  me;  and 
I  told  them  again  of  the  great  Physician.  One  man  followed  mo  to  my 
house,  and  gives  me  reason  to  hope,  with  tremhling,  tluit  the  gospel  has 
been  made  to  him  the  power  of  God  to  salvation.  .  .  .  Preached  to  my 
English  congregation  this  evening;  not  man}-  present,  and  not  much 
apparently  concerned.  A  few  soldiers  from  the  barracks:  something 
unusual  this;  a  fresh  company,  I  suppose." 

"Two  or  three  soldiers  at  the  evening  service  again.  One,  I  noticed, 
looked  ill,  and  seemed  very  attentive.  I  was  enabled  to  pour  out  my 
soul  in  earnest  prayer  for  my  poor  fello\v-ci>untrymcn,  like  me,  so  far 
from  home  and  fi lends;  and  I  think  I  spoke  with  more  aninnition  and 
feeling  than  I  have  of  late.  Oh,  that  I  could  see  some  fruits  to  the  glory 
of  God  from  m\'  poor  im[ierfcct  labours!" 

"Met  the  soldier  to-day  whom  I  noticed  last  Sabbath.  Spoke  to  him, 
and  tried  to  converse;  but  he  seemed  sh}'  and  reserved,  though  civil. 
lie  has  been  some  time  in  the  country,  he  saj's,  though  not  here." 

"  Several  soldiers  at  the  service  last  evening,  among  whom  I  noticed 
the  man  to  whom  I  spoke  in  the  week.  He  staid  behind  the  rest  to 
speak  to  me,  and  thanked  me  for  my  sermon.  The  man  says,  it  is  a 
good  man}'  years  since  he  eidisted,  and  he  is  now  a  corjioral.  I  asked 
him  to  call  on  me;  but,  after  some  hesitation,  he  declined:  kept  back, 
perhaps,  by  the  fear  of  man,  which  bringeth  a  snare.  lie  seems  some- 
M'hat  superior  to  the  ordinary  class  of  men  in  the  lower  ranks  of  the 
array ;  but  I  could  perceive  no  evidence  of  piety  in  his  conversation. 
May  God  show  mercy  to  him  !" 

[AVe  take  up  the  journal  at  a  date  several  weeks  later.] 

"  The  soldier  whom  I  have  several  times  mentioned,  called  on  me  to- 
day for  the  first  time.  Since  I  last  wrote  of  him,  he  has  regularly  at- 
tended the  evening  service,  and  though  very  attentive  and  serious,  has 
evidentl}-  kept  out  of  my  way.     I  was  surprised,  therefore,  to  see  him. 


136  r  0  r.  T F  0  L 1 0   of   e  n  t  e  p.  t  a  i  k  m  e n  t 

lie  is  in  great  distress  of  mind,  and  seems  reluctant  to  speak  of  liis  past 
history.  lie  suffers,  be  sajs,  from  the  climate,  and  his  looks  confirm  it: 
but  be  bas  suffered  more,  I  judge,  from  mental  anguish.  He  speaks  of 
himself  as  having  sinned  almost  beyond  the  reach  of  God's  mere}'.  I 
directed  him  to  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
WDi-ld,  and  reminded  him  that  Jesus  Christ  is  able  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most all  that  come  to  God  by  him.  I  prayed  with  him,  and  for  him, 
and  he  went  away  a  little  relieved.  Ob  that  there  may  be  a  token 
for  good  in  this !  May  it  manifestly  prove  to  be  the  work  of  the  Holy 
Spirit!" 

'•  I  have  liad  another  interview  to-day  with  the  poor  soldier.  He  has 
told  me  bis  history:  it  is  a  sad  one,  but  there  are  many  others  like  it. 
His  name  is  Franklin  ;  and  he  is  about  twent3'-eight  years  of  age.  He 
is  the  son  of  pious  parents,  he  sa^^s ;  and  when  he  was  about  eight  years 
old,  his  father  died.  After  struggling  hard  for  some  years,  bis  mother 
was  reduced  to  poverty.  Instead  of  being  a  help  and  comfort  to  her,  be 
was  led  astray  by  evil  companions,  and  became  the  chief  sorrow  of  her 
life.  By  his  youthful  excesses,  he  increased  her  daily  toil,  diminished 
her  comforts,  and  alienated  from  her  the  friends  who  had  at  one  time 
interested  themselves  on  her  behalf.  At  length,  in  a  fit  of  rebellion,  be 
entered  the  army,  though  he  knew  that  his  mother's  heart  would  be  rent 
liy  the  act.  It  is  now  more  than  eight  years  since  he  enlisted.  For  a 
few  months,  be  kept  up  correspondence  with  his  mother;  but  has  not 
now  written  to  her  for  j-ears,  and  he  does  not  know  whether  she  be 
living.  He  bas,  according  to  bis  own  account,  led  a  dissolute  life  since 
be  became  a  soldier;  and  now  that  he  feels  his  sins  have  found  him  out, 
he  is  greatlj-  depressed  and  an'xious." 

"A  laborious,  but  a  happy  day.  God  is,  I  trust,  granting  some  testi- 
niuiiy  to  the  word  of  his  grace.  Among  the  natives  are  some  who  are 
asking,  '  What  must  "C  do  to  be  saved  ?'  And  my  poor  friend,  corporal 
Ffaiiklin,  I  believe  tliat  the  Lord  has  beard  and  answered  praj-er  for 
him,  and  has  led  him  out  of  darkness  into  light,  as  a  trophy  of  Divine 


A  K  D   INST  11  r  c  r  1 0  X .  1 37 

mercy.  I  liave  seen  liini  to-day,  and  have  listened  with  much  joj-  to  the 
account  he  gives  of  the  change  which  he  has  experienced.  What  pleases 
me  best  in  him  is  the  modesty  and  humility  with  which  he  speaks  of 
himself,  and  the  shrinking  abhorrence  with  which  he  views  his  past 
course,  when  he  was  without  God  and  hope  in  the  world.  He  says  that 
there  were  a  few  pious  soldiers  in  a  former  regiment  from  which  he  was 
drafted  ;  and  that  he  was  among  the  foremost  of  their  persecutors.  He 
is  now  tasting  of  the  same  cup,  being  a  marked  man  in  the  barracks ; 
but  from  what  I  hear,  he  bears  it  meekly-,  remembering  Him  who  en- 
dured such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  himself.  He  speaks  with 
gratitude  of  the  good  providence  of  God,  which  led  him  to  hear  the 
gospel.  He  was  lounging  about  the  cit^',  he  saj's,  with  some  comrades, 
when  he  heard  the  sound  of  singing  and  stopped  to  listen.  It  was  an 
old  tune,  which  he  well  remembers  as  a  fixvourite  of  his  mother;  and, 
attracted  as  well  as  softened  by  the  sound,  he  persuaded  his  companions 
to  enter  our  place  of  worship  with  him.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had 
voluntarily  heard  the  gospel  preached  for  many  years.  The  service 
brought  old  times  to  his  mind,  and  he  came  again  and  again.  His  com- 
rades, who,  for  a  few  Sabbaths,  continued  their  attendance,  soon  gave 
over,  and  laughed  at  him  for  his  constancy ;  but  he  describes  himself  as 
having  been  almost  irresistibly  impelled  to  continue  his  attendance  ;  and 
the  word  spoken  was  conveyed  with  power  to  his  soul.  May  he  bo 
enabled  to  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord  !  The  snares  and  temptations  that 
surround  him  are  very  numerous  and  strong;  but  there  is  One  who  can 
keep  him  from  falling.  He  tells  me  he  has  written  home.  If  his  mother 
and  sister  (for  he  left  a  sister  behind)  be  living,  it  will  be  to  them  as  life 
from  the  dead  to  know  that  the  poor  prodigal  has  returned  to  his 
Heavenly  Father." 

[  Tlirce  months  later.  ] 
"Poor  Franklin  is  very  ill ;  but  in  an  env-iable  state  of  mind.     He  has 
been  greatly  distressed  lest  he  should  have  deceived  himself;  but  tho 


138  POIlTrOLIO     OF     ENTERTAINMENT 

darkness  nas  cleared  away;  and  he  is  able  to  cast  himself  on  the  mercy 
of  God,  through  Jesus  Christ ;  and  to  see  in  God  a  reconciled  Friend  and 
Father.  His  great  anxiety  is  now  respecting  his  neglected  and  once 
despised  mother,  and  his  sister.  He  thinks  that  if  they  live,  and  his  letter 
reaches  them,  they  will  not  believe  that  George  is  converted.  lie  re- 
members, with  deep  sorrow  of  heart,  the  perpetual  sorrow  which  he 
caused  them,  and  which  must  have  embittered  their  lives.  He  has  but 
faint  hopes  of  seeing  them  again ;  but  has  charged  me  with  messages  to 
them.     I  have  written. 

"  Corporal  Franklin  is  better,  but  he  will  never  recover  health,  I  fear. 
He  is  ordered  home  with  a  detachment  of  invalids,  and  he  will  embark 
next  week.  I  am  glad  of  it  for  his  sake,  though  I  regret  losing  him :  but 
this  is  selfish.  His  acquaintance  has  been  one  of  the  bright  spots  of  my 
chequered  missionary  life.  Blessed  be  God,  I  have  not  laboured  in  vain, 
nor  spent  my  strength  for  nought;  for  surely  George  Franklin  has  not 
received  the  grace  of  God  in  vain.  If  he  should  be  spared  to  meet  his 
mother,  if  she  lives,  it  will  be  a  sight  for  angels  to  witness  with  J03'." 

The  widow  and  her  daughter  sat  in  the  small  room  which  sensed 
both  as  a  workshop  and  parlour.  Time  had  dealt  leniently  with  one,  and 
generously  with  the  other.  The  deep  lines  of  care  were  not  removed, 
indeed,  from  the  countenance  of  the  mother ;  the  hairs  of  silvery  white- 
ness were  to  be  detected  beneath  her  comfortable  net  cap  ;  but  a  gleam 
of  sunshine  —  the  sunshine  of  faith  and  hope  —  seemed  to  have  rested 
on  it  all.  Tribulation  had  wrought  patience;  and  patience,  experience; 
and  experience,  hope  —  a  hope  that  made  not  ashamed.  Emily  Frank- 
lin, from  a  sicklj'  pallid  girl,  had  risen  to  womanly  grace  and  healthful 
complexion.     A  blessing  still  rested  on  the  work  of  her  hands. 

Hark!  a  knock  at  the  door:  it  was  the  postman's  knock.  No  mis- 
taking that,  though  they  did  not  often  receive  letters. 

"Who  is  it  from,  Emmy?"  asked  the  mother,  in  a  tone  of  inditlcrence, 
as  she  heard  her  daughter's  step  returning  —  lingeriug  first,  and  then 


f^Jz^-^^^— 


AND     INSTRUCTION.  139 

raiiiclly.  Tlie  qnestiou  was  asked  witli  indifference,  we  say;  for  the  wild 
dream  of  receiving  a  letter  from  him,  from  George,  Lad  passed  away. 
"Mother,  dear  mother  —  a  letter  from  abroad,  and  his  writing  !" 
The  Grecian  painter,  when  he  would  depict  a  scene  of  maternal  grief 
and  despair,  cast  a  veil  over  the  mother's  countenance.  We  imitate  his 
example,  and  draw  a  veil  of  silence  around  the  scene  of  trembling  eager- 
ness, uudefinable  dread,  faint  and  fluttering  hope,  all  rising  at  last,  and 
lost  in  exuberant  joy  and  gratitude,  when  the  precious  letter  revealed 
that  her  son,  once  dead,  was  alive  again ;  once  lost,  was  found. 

"My  mother's  legacy!  my  mother's  dying  words!"  exclaimed  the 
rejoicing  widow,  when  glad,  happy  tears  led  the  way  to  utterance:  "she 
told  me  I  should  never  be  sorry,  for  that  twenty  pounds  being  set  apart 
for  the  missionary  work  —  that  it  would  be  made  up  in  better  blessings! 
'  Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul,  and  all  that  is  within  me,  bless  his  holy  name ! 
Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits :  who  forgiveth 
all  thine  iniquities;  who  healeth  all  thy  diseases;  who  redeemeth  thy  life 
from  destruction ;  who  crowneth  thee  with  lo'ving-kiudness  and  tender 
mercies !'  0  Emmy,  these  are  the  better  blessings  your  grandmother 
spoke  of!" 

Shall  we  leave  off  here ;  or  shall  we  say,  in  few  words,  that,  many 
months  afterwards,  George  returned  to  his  home  and  his  happy  mother, 
discharged  from  the  service,  and  pensioned,  but  an  invalid ;  that,  for  a 
time,  he  rallied  under  the  influence  of  native  air  and  gentle  tending; 
that  he  lived  long  enough  to  prove  the  sincerity  of  his  professions,  and  to 
evince  tlie  marvellous  power  of  Divine  grace  in  the  conversion  of  a  time- 
hardened  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  ways;  and  that,  then,  he  died  iu 
his  mother's  arms  ? 

jSTeed  we  add  to  this  the  lessons  which  our  stoiy  teaches,  that  God  is 
not  unmindful  of  the  work  of  fiiith  and  labour  of  love  — that  God  hears 
and  answers  prayer,  but  not  always  in  the  expected  manner  or  time 
—  that  men  should  always  pray  and  not  faint  — that  thougli  God  for- 


140 


r  0  R  T  F  0  L  1  0     OF     E  X  T  E  K  T  A  I  N  51  E  X  T 


gives  his  people  their  nianifolJ  folhes,  he  takes  vengeance,  oftentimes,  on 
their  inventions  —  tlnit  wlien  an  idol  is  set  up  in  a  Christian's  heart,  that 
idol  will  often  he  the  cause  of  that  Christian's  deepest  sorrow ;  but  that, 
nevertheless,  when  God  wounds,  "he  wounds  to  heal." 


^|e  fr;uisfflrnub  |sl;inJ(. 


A  STOEY  OF  THE  SOl'TH  SEAS. 


J^  HEN"  jSTapoleon  was  in  Egypt,  at  the  period  of  his 
unscrupulous  invasion  of  that  country,  he  wished,  it 
is  said,  to  impress  its  native  chiefs  with  a  sense  of  the 
vast  power  of  their  conquerors.  For  that  purpose, 
some  chemical  experiments  were  performed  h}-  the 
scientific  men  attached  to  Bonaparte's  staff,  and 
wonderful  transformations  were  in  consequence  effected.  Napoleon 
judged  wisely  in  thus  selecting  chemistry  as  the  medium  for  astonishing 
the  Egyptians ;  for  assuredly  there  was  no  science  so  well  calculated  to 
remind  them  of  their  magicians  of  old.  The  chemist  can  change  a 
black  into  a  white  colour,  can  transform  poisons  into  health-giving  medi- 
cines, and  out  of  nauseous  or  inodorous  substances  can  extract  delicious 
and  fragrant  perfumes. 

Wonderful  as  is  the  chemist's  skill,  however,  there  is  a  moral  and  a 
spiritual  chemistry  occasionally  displayed  in  the  world  around  us  which 
is  still  more  marvellous  —  that  by  which  God  extracts  good  out  of  evil. 
Often  and  often  as  this  problem  has  been  worked  out  by  the  Almighty 
Governor  of  the  universe,  sometimes  upon  a  large,  and  sometimes  upon 
a  small  scale,  we  scarcely  know  an  instance  in  which  it  was  more  singu 
larly  demonstrated  than  in  a  small  islet  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  not  much 


AND     I  X  S  T  K  U  C  T  I  0  X  .  141 

larger  than  tlie  ai-ea  of  Hyde  Park.  In  ritcairu'.s  island,  for  to  tliat 
locality  we  refer,  the  dark  elements  of  lawlessness,  lieentiousucss,  mur- 
der, and  infidelity,  were,  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  the  power  of  his 
Holy  Spirit,  blessing  the  perusal  of  a  copy  of  the  sacred  volume,  trans- 
formed into  the  fair  and  beauteous  qualities  of  love,  peace,  gentleness, 
order,  and  tranquillity.  In  preparing  a  work  intended  to  occupy  in 
its  perusal  a  portion  of  the  day  of  holy  rest,  we  have  selected  this  sub- 
ject because  it  illustrates  in  an  agreeable  form  many  important  spiritual 
truths,  while  it  has  all  the  attractions  of  novelty  in  consequence  of  the 
recent  visit  to  England  of  a  gentleman  who,  for  more  than  twenty 
years,  has  laboured  on  the  spot  as  an  evangelist  and  pastor. 

Pitcairn's  island  is  a  small  speck  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  about  1200 
miles  from  Otaheite.  It  belongs  to  a  region  where  the  bountiful  Creator 
has  scattered  beauties  with  a  lavish  hand,  and  where  by  a  little  stretch 
of  the  fancy  we  might  suppose  the  "  Isles  of  the  Blest,"  of  which  poets 
have  dreamed,  to  be  situated.  A  sunn^-  clime,  tropical  plants,  rich  fruits, 
gorgeous  flowers,  majestic  sunsets,  and  the  perpetual  roll  of  an  ocean  of 
azure  blue  round  its  coral-bound  shores,  render  Pitcairn  a  spot  calculated 
to  charm  the  most  ardent  fancy.  At  the  period  of  which  we  write  it 
was  uninhabited,  being  known  only  by  name,  and  scarcely  even  that  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Europe. 

In  1767,  when  Captain  Carteret  was  cruising  in  these  latitudes,  a  young 
midshipman,  of  the  name  of  Pitcairn,  was  the  first  to  discover  what 
seemed  in  the  distance  to  be  little  else  than  a  tall  rock.  On  drawing 
nearer,  it  was  discovered  to  be  an  island  in  miniature ;  but  the  tempestu- 
ous state  of  the  waters  that  encompassed  it,  forbade  all  landing  upon  it. 
The  young  gentleman  who  first  saw  it  had  his  name  given  to  it  (alas ! 
for  the  brevity  of  human  distinctions,  he  died  soon  afterwards);  a  brief 
record  was  made  of  the  event  in  the  vessel's  log ;  the  next  hydrographer 
who  drew  a  chart  of  the  South  Sea,  perhaps,  added  a  new  dot  to  it ; 
Captain  Carteret  briefly  mentioned  the  circumstance  in  a  printed  narra- 
tive of  his  voyage  ;  but  tliis  was  all  that  was  known  of  Pitcairn  for  many 


142  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  N  T  E  1!  T  A  I  N  M  E  N  T 

a  long  (lay.  How  silently  are  important  events  often  bom  into  existence ! 
The  complex  web  of  Providence  is  being  constantly  woven  around  us  by 
a  Divine  hand ;  but  there  is  no  bell  to  ring,  as  in  the  Jacquai'd  loom  in 
the  Exhibition  of  1851,  and  aooounce  that  some  new  thread,  the  first 
l^ortion  of  some  beauteous  pattern,  is  about  to  be  introduced. 

Some  twenty  years  had  rolled  on  since  the  discovery  of  Pitcairn,  when, 
in  1787,  the  Bounty,  a  vessel  bearing  the  British  pennant,  was  on  her 
homeward  voyage  from  Otaheite,  laden  with  plants  of  the  bread-fruit 
tree,  which  the  government  of  that  day  intended  to  introduce  into  the 
West  Indies.  Calmly  and  majestically  the  ship  sailed  on,  apparently  all 
peace  and  trancjuillity,  everything  in  it  seemingly  the  very  tj-pe  of  dis- 
cipline and  order.  But  this  calm  was  a  deceptive  one.  Within  that 
vessel  tliero  was  smouldei'ing  the  sullen  fire  of  sinful  and  evil  passions, 
which  wanted  but  an  appropriate  opportunity  to  break  forth  into  a  blaze. 
Fletcher  Christian,  a  young  man  of  a  respectable  family  in  the  north  of 
England,  gifted  with  good  abilities,  but  of  a  quick  and  revengeful  spirit, 
was  on  board  the  Bounty,  in  the  capacity  of  master's  mate.  His  supe- 
rior in  command,  Captain  Bligh,  appears  to  have  been  of  an  unhappy 
temper,  and  of  an  exacting  and  imperious  disposition.  Ah!  what  need 
is  there,  in  all  the  relations  of  life,  of  the  grace  of  Christian  love.  How 
would  the  inequalities  of  our  social  system  be  rectified  did  but  this  grace 
everywhere  prevail,  dropping  like  oil  upon  all  the  jarring  wheels  of  the 
political  machine.  Had  Bligh  but  remembered  the  Divine  command, 
"Forbear  threatening;"  had  he  acted  under  the  habitual  conviction  that 
he  too  "had  a  master  in  heaven;"  and  had  Fletcher  Christian  remem- 
bered the  Divine  command,  "Be  not  overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome 
evil  with  good,"  our  story  would  not  have  had  to  be  written.  But,  alas! 
it  was  far  otherwise.  Bligh  kept  his  crew  in  a  state  of  exasperation, 
and  Christian,  resenting  his  treatment,  gave  way  to  the  spirit  of  revenge. 
He  fomented  a  mutiny  amongst  his  companions,  which  came  to  a  head 
on  the  28th  of  April,  1789  —  a  day  which  had  been  preceded  by  a  night 
remarkable  even  in  that  tropical  region  for  its  stillness  and  beauty. 


AND     IXSTRUCTION.  143 

Into  the  details  of  that  mntiny  it  is  not  our  province  to  enter  here. 
Let  it  suffice  to  say  tliat  Captain  Bligh,  with  a  handful  of  men  who  had 
remained  faithful  to  him,  and  a  small  allowance  of  provisions,  was  placed 
in  a  small  boat,  laden  to  within  a  few  inches  of  the  water's  edge,  and 
left  to  the  mercies  of  the  wind  and  waves.  As  the  unhappy  commander 
awoke  to  a  perception  of  the  calamity  that  had  befallen  him,  he  made  a 
farewell  appeal  to  tlie  conscience  of  Christian,  on  the  subject  of  his 
undutiful  conduct.  The  reply  expressed  the'  stormy  tumult  of  feeling 
that  raged  within:  "I  am  in  hell  —  I  am  iu  hell,  Captain  Bligh,"  he 
said  —  incoherent  expressions,  perliaps,  but  suiBciently  significant,  how- 
ever interpreted,  of  the  volcanic  fires  that  raged  within.  "  There  is  no 
peace  to  the  wicked,  saith  my  God;  he  is  as  the  troubled  sea  which  can- 
not rest." 

na\ang  seen  the  last  of  the  boat  of  Captain  Bligh  and  his  crew,  the 
mutineers  turned  the  head  of  their  vessel  back  to  Otaheite,  longing  for 
the  revelry  and  sensual  case  which  they  hoped  there  to  enjoy.  In  those 
days,  our  seamen  were  too  often  but  emissaries  of  evil,  and,  while  pro- 
fessing the  name  of  Christ,  brought  to  heathen  lands  only  a  subtler  and 
more  degrading  form  of  heathenism.  There  was  indeed  something 
mournfully  aft'ecting  in  the  spectacle  which  the  mutinous  vessel  now  pre- 
sented. She  had  flung  to  the  winds  the  restraints  of  law  and  order. 
Like  some  wild  youth  or  prodigal,  who  has  thrown  aside  all  the  barriers 
of  discipline  or  parental  control,  she  hurried  on,  lured  by  the  false  mirage 
of  sinful  pleasure,  and  dreaming  that  no  retribution  awaited  her.  But 
never,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  was  mistake  more  complete.  Though  the 
ocean  did  not  engulf  the  guilty  crew  —  though  the  winds  did  not  over- 
whelm them  in  their  fury  (as  in  the  providential  government  of  God  they 
might  have  been  permitted  to  do) — yet  the  retribution  was  equally 
eftectual.  They  carried  iu  their  own  breasts  the  witness  and  the  avenger 
of  their  crime.  "  To  see,"  saj-s  an  American  divine,  "  to  see  men  rea- 
soning against  retribution,  when  retribution  is  working  within  them! 
Reasoning  against  the  government  of  God  and  eternal  justice,  when 


144  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  M'  E  K  T  A  I  X  M  E  X  T 

doing  upon  themselves  the  very  work  of  Divine  government,  luid  the 
sorest  part  of  tlie  retributive  vengeance  !  They  may  reason  against  a 
judgment  to  come,  but  it  is  Hke  reasoning  against  the  fact  of  their  owu 
existence.     It  is  a  necessit}'  as  inexorable  as  the  memory  of  sin." 

Ere  long,  the  Bounty  reached  once  more  the  shores  of  Otaheite ;  but 
there  a  diiSculty  arose.  In  what  manner  should  they  account  to  the 
natives  for  their  unexpected  return,  and  for  the  absence  of  their  com- 
mander and  so  many  of  the  crew.  There  was  but  one  course  open,  and 
that  was  to  follow  the  crime  which  the}-  had  committed  with  a  lie;  for 
let  the  young  reader  remember  that  sin  is  ever  prolific,  and  that  one 
deviation  from  rectitude  almost  inentably  necessitates  a  second,  in  the 
shape  of  a  falsehood,  to  cloak  it.  The  lie  was  soon  told.  The  mutineers 
had  met,  they  said,  the  Otaheitans'  old  friend.  Captain  Cook,  and  Bligh, 
with  a  portion  of  their  comrades,  had  joined  him.  The  simple-minded 
children  of  the  south  readily  credited  the  tale,  and  warmly  welcomed  the 
wanderers  to  their  shores.  Reflection  was  flung  to  the  winds,  and  Chris- 
tian and  his  companions  indulged  in  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season.  It 
was  only /or  a  season,  however;  tlie  pleasures  of  sin  never  last  longer. 
The  mj'sterious  phantasmagoria  painted  by  a  guilty  conscience  would 
flash  across  their  soul.  Imagination  would  paint  their  commander  and 
his  crew  suffering  the  horrors  of  starvation,  or  engulfed  in  the  ocean ; 
while  at  other  times  it  would  represent  them  as  safely  guided  to  some 
European  settlement;  their  tale  of  wrong  echoing  through  the  com- 
munity; government  justly  indignant  at  the  outrage  on  their  authority, 
and  tlie  avenger  of  blood  upon  their  track.  Ah!  Fletcher  Christian,  llitte 
didst  thou  foresee  the  miseries  that  were  to  follow  thy  deviation  from 
the  path  (if  duty.  Would  that  thy  example  may  ring  like  an  alarm-bell 
in  the  ears  of  an}-  young  man  dallying  with  temptation,  and  startle  him 
back  from  the  edge  of  the  precipice. 

Xo  time  was  to  be  lost;  so  the^mutineers  concluded  on  seeking  a  safer 
shelter  than  what  Otaheite  afforded.    Leaving,  therefore,  a  portion  of  the 


A  .N  D     I  N  S  T  K  i:  C  T  I  0  N  .  145 

crew  boliiiid  them,  tlicy  again  set  sail.*  Cain  founJ  no  rest  for  the  sole 
of  his  foot,  and  so  seemed  it  to  be  with  this  little  company.  Mutual 
recriminations  ensued,  and  Christian's  temper  became  broken,  moody, 
and  fitful.  lie  again  landed  at  Toubouai,  and  as  tlie  first  fratricide  built 
a  cit}',  to  ease  by  occupation  his  mental  agony,  so  ho  ordered  a  fort  to  be 
constructed ;  but  tlie  work  prospered  not.  Again,  with  a  heavj-  heart, 
he  ordered  the  anchor  to  be  heaved,  the  sail  to  be  unfurled,  and  once 
more  the  "Bountj',"  like  a  guilty  thing,  sought  some  spot  where  it  might 
evade  the  grasp  of  justice.  Thus  sailing  about,  the  little  island  of  Pit- 
cairn  was  reached.  Situated  at  a  vast  distance  from  any  other  land,  and 
inaccessible  except  at  certain  states  of  the  weatlier,  it  seemed  to  promise 
seclusion  and  protection.  Xow,  then,  the  die  was  to  be  cast,  and  the  last 
link  that  bound  them  to  the  society  of  civilized  man  to  be  cut,  by  the 
destruction  of  their  vessel.  The  little  party  according!}'  landed,  and  un- 
shipping their  effects,  carried  them  ashore.  Amongst  other  things,  some 
books  were  landed.  If  we  examine  these  closely,  we  shall  mai-k  au  old 
Bible  lying  in  the  heap.  That  volume,  reader,  we  shall  meet  with  again 
before  closing  this  eventful  history.  All  having  been  arranged,  the  brand 
is  applied,  and  the  Bounty  is  wrapped  in  flames  —  flames  that  tj'pify  too 
appropriately  the  fires  of  remorse,  by  which  the  mutineers  are  surrounded. 
And  now  the  deed  is  done,  the  work  of  destruction  is  complete  !  They 
stand  on  the  soil  of  their  adoption  henceforward  to  herd  with  savages, 
and  to  share  no  more  the  delights  of  an  English  home.  When  the 
pilgrim  fathers,  in  the  Mayflower,  landed  ou  the  shores  of  America, 
severe  privations  and  an  unknown  wilderness  lay  before  them  ;  but  they 
felt  neither  lonely  nor  discouraged,  for  God  was  with  tiieji  —  a  sun  and 
a  shield  —  a  veiy  present  refuge  in  the  time  of  trouble.  Far  dift'oreut, 
alas !  was  it  with  Fletcher  Christian  and  his  crew.  In  an  emphatic  sense, 
thej-  stood  alone  —  exiles  from  social  life  —  fugitives  from  justice  —  while 

*  Tlioy  ciirrioJ  also  witli   thc-m  six  Taliiti:in  liieu  and  twelve  Tahitiiin  woineu;  of  tlie 
latter,  nine  were  wives  of  tlic  mutineers,  and  three  wore  wives  of  tlie  Tuliitians. 
10 


146  PORTFOLIO    or    i;.\Ti;  K  T  A  I.\  M  EX  T 

unrepeuted  guilt  arose  as  a  wall  of  separation  between  tbem  and  tlieir 
Creator.     Unhappy  men ! 

The  commander  of  the  Bounty,  and  such  of  his  crew  as  remained  faith- 
ful to  him,  found  themselves,  when  the  mutinous  vessel  had  departed,  in 
circumstances  that  might  well  have  daunted  the  stoutest  hearts.  They 
were  nearly  four  thousand  miles  from  any  European  settlement;  their 
allowance  of  food  and  water  was  limited  to  an  ounce  per  day  of  the 
former,  and  a  miserable  pittance  of  the  latter  for  each  man.  The  ocean 
beneath  them  revealed  the  forms  of  ravenous  animals  ready  to  seize  tliem 
as  tlieir  prey;  while,  as  if  to  mock  their  misery,  fair  and  verdant  islands 
lay  within  sight,  although  unapproachable  from  the  cruel  character  of  the 
savages  by  which  thej  were  inhabited.  How  much,  we  may  observe  in 
passing,  does  commerce  owe  to  the  gospel  and  the  mis-sions  which  it  has 
originated.  The  spots  where,  from  fear  of  massacre,  Bligh  and  his  crew 
dared  not  land  (one  of  the  men  having  been  killed  in  an  attempt  to  do 
so),  have  since,  by  means  of  the  labours  of  Williams  and  others,  been 
made  accessible  with  safety  to  the  mariner  and  the  merchant.  Surely 
this  is  a  fact  worthy  of  being  pondered  by  those  who  have  hitherto  looked 
with  coldness  on  missionarj-  enterprise. 

The  boat  in  which  the  little  party  was  crowded  together  was  laden  to 
within  a  few  inches  of  the  water's  edge  ;  yet,  terrible  as  this  situation  was, 
there  was  one  load,  more  dreadful  than  any  material  burden,  from  which 
they  were  happily  free  —  the  consciousness  of  crime.  They  needed,  in 
the  tremendous  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed,  to  put  forth 
exertion,  and  their  energies  were  not  paralyzed  by  the  recollection  of 
rebellion  and  outrage  having  been  perpetrated  by  them.  Men  can  fight 
the  battle  of  life  courageously  when  they  have  the  music  of  a  good  con- 
science to  sweeten  their  toils;  but  feeble  is  that  arm,  and  dull  is  that 
brain,  whose  vigour  is  depressed  by  the  sense  of  unrepented  and  unpar- 
doned guilt. 

After  a  long  and  trying  voyage  of  forty-one  days,  they  reached  a 
friendly  shore,  life  having  been   preserved  amidst  almost  unparalleled 


AND     INSTRUCTION.  147 

dangers.  Witli  a  loadeii  bullet  for  liis  weight  (long  preserved  as  a 
memento  of  the  occasion),  and  two  cocoa-nut  shells  for  his  scales,  the 
commander  had  daily  measured  out  their  slender  portion  of  sustenance. 
Their  little  bark  at  times  had  passed  through  seas  so  storm\-  that  often 
its  sail  was  becalmed  between  the  mountainous  waves  that  rearc<I 
themselves  on  either  side.  A  special  Providence,  howevei-,  had  watched 
over  them.  Prayer  for  divine  protection  had  been  daily  oti'ered  up,  and 
amidst  the  desolate  waste  of  waters  their  supplications  were  heard,  and 
the  needful  succour  vouchsafed. 

The  tale  of  suffering  and  wrong  which  Bligh  brouglit  home  rang 
through  England,  and  created  a  lively  sympathy  in  kis  favour.  Govern- 
ment felt  keenlj'  the  outrage  committed  upon  its  authority,  and  a  swift- 
footed  messenger  of  vengeance,  in  the  shape  of  a  frigate,  was  dispatched 
to  track  the  Bount}-,  and  bring  Christian  and  his  companions  to  justice. 
Tiie  Pandora,  for  so  the  vessel  was  named,  scoured  the  Pacific  on  this 
errand,  but  no  trace  of  the  vessel  could  be  ol)tained.  A  few  of  the  muti- 
neers, however,  who  had  been  left  at  Otaheite,  were  arrested,  and  two 
others,  it  was  found,  had  been  murdered.  Of  the  captured  men,  three 
were  drowned  in  the  homeward  voyage,  and  three  forfeited  their  lives  to 
justice  upon  their  arrival  in  England.  But  where  were  Christian  and 
the  remaining  mutineers  ?     That  was  a  mystery  which  none  could  solve. 

The  readers  of  our  former  pages  are,  however,  already  in  possession 
of  that  secret ;  and  it  is  now  time  to  return  to  Pitcairn.  Of  the  refugees 
on  that  island,  the  first  to  awake  to  a  consciousness  of  their  position  were 
the  Otaheitan  natives,  whom  the  mutineers  had  lured  to  join  their  band, 
in  ordei',  as  it  proved,  to  make  use  of  them  as  slaves  Thorougldy  dis- 
abused of  their  former  confidence,  they  now  rebelled,  and  plotted  against 
their  selfish  tyrants.  Suspicion,  and  fear  too,  were  rife  in  the  little 
colony.  Christian  was  haunted  with  the  dread  of  discovery,  and  con- 
structed for  himself,  on  an  elevated  jiart  of  the  island,  a  species  of  strong- 
hold from  which  he  could  scan  the  horizon  and  detect  the  approach  of 
any  vessel  in  the  distance.     Ah  I  what  melancholy  hours  must  he  have 


148  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  N  T  E  R  T  A  1  X  M  E  X  T 

passed  in  solitude  tliere ;  his  prospects  in  life  fdl  blighted,  and  he  an  exile 
from  his  native  soil,  and  subject  to  a  felon's  doom.  Truly  he  had  sold 
himself  for  nought,  and  might  witli  miOurnful  truth  exclaim,  "What  fruit 
have  I  in  those  things  whereof  I  am  now  ashamed  ?  for  the  end  of  those 
things  is  death." 

The  dread  of  a  visit  from  a  man-of-war  sent  in  i^ursuit  of  them  was  not, 
however,  confined,  to  Christian,  hut  was  shared  in  by  his  English  com- 
panions. The  clouds  in  tliese  regions  often  take  the  resemblance  of 
material  objects,  and  would,  to  the  guilty  fancy  of  the  mutineers,  at 
times  assume  the  shape  of  a  vessel  approaching  the  island.  Then  was 
fulfilled  the  saying  of  Scripture,  "  The  wicked  fleeth  when  no  man  pur- 
sueth  ;"  for,  startled  by  the  form  which  their  guilty  conscience  had  con- 
jured up,  they  would  hurry  to  caves  and  other  retreats  for  shelter.  Once, 
however,  their  apprehensions  were  attended  with  some  degree  of  reality. 
A  vessel  did  touch  at  the  island,  and,  as  the  mutineers  on  timidly  emerg- 
ing from  concealment  discovered,  by  the  marks  of  a  fire  on  shore,  actually 
landed  a  party,  who  had  retreated,  however,  without  discovering  the 
Bounty's  secret. 

But  sin  is  its  own  avenger,  and  he  who  commits  a  crime  forges  fetters 
for  his  soul.  Often,  too,  it  happens  that  the  punishment  bears  a  strong 
resemblance  to  the  crime  which  has  been  committed.  So  it  proved  in 
the  present  instance.  The  tyrannj-  which  Bligh  exercised  upon  Chris- 
tian and  his  companions,  they,  in  their  turn,  appear  to  have  displayed 
towards  the  Otaheitan  natives,  who  watching  an  opportunity,  slew  Chris- 
tian and  four  of  the  whites  at  a  moment  when  they  were  totally  unsus- 
pecting such  a  fate.  Thus  perished  this  unhappy  man,  pursued  by  the 
same  violence  that  he  had  unchained  upon  others.  A  few  of  his  com- 
rades still  remained,  however,  and  between  them  and  the  male  Otahei- 
tans  a  civil  war  raged  which  ended  in  the  destruction  of  the  latter.  The 
soil  of  Pitcairn  was  now  literally  drenched  in  blood. 

But  a  new  and  more  dreadful  element  was  yet  to  mingle  with  the 
strife.     One  of  the  mutineers  had  learned  in  his  mother  country  the  art 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  1-19 

of  distillation,  and  in  au  evil  hour  f<jr  himself,  ho  succeeded  in  extracting 
spirits  from  a  native  plant.  Intoxication  was  now  added  to  the  otlier 
horrors  of  the  scene.  Two  of  the  men  were  almost  constantly  drunk, 
and  one  of  them  speedily  met  with  au  appalling  doom,  having  thrown 
himself  from  a  clitl"  in  a  fit  of  delirium  tremens.  His  com[ianion  in  intoxi- 
cation died  in  a  manner  equally  awful  —  for  the  two  surviving  mutineers 
(to  that  little  number  had  the  Bounty's  crew  been  reduced),  finding  their 
lives  endangered  by  his  excesses,  slew  him  in  self-defence ! 

But  here  surely  we  may  appropriately  pause  and  reilect.  These  men 
had  escaped  retribution  from  the  hands  of  society,  but  their  own  wicked- 
ness punished  them.  Sin  proved  their  destruction,  and  the  working  of 
their  evil  passions  changed  a  natural  p^aradise  into  a  pandemonium.  It  is 
no  idle  fiction,  therefore,  that  we  repeat,  when  we  warn  men  to  beware 
of  sin  as  their  worst  enemy,  and  beseech  them  to  get  rid  of  a  principle 
that  must,  if  unchecked,  prove  their  ruin,  by  seeking  those  renewing 
influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  can  alone  deliver  them  from  its  power. 

Meanwhile  a  group  of  children  was  springing  up,  born  of  English 
fathers  and  Otaheitan  mothers.  Uncared-for  and  unattended,  with 
nothing  but  sin  as  an  example,  tliey  seemed  likely  to  grow  up  heathens, 
witli  the  vices  of  civilization  added  to  those  of  paganism.  The  mutineers, 
we  have  said,  were  reduced  to  two  in  number  —  one  formerly  a  midship- 
man, of  the  name  of  Young  (who  died  not  long  after  the  events  narrated 
above),  and  the  other  a  common  seaman,  known  on  board  the  Bounty 
as  Alexander  Smith,  but  who  assumed  the  name  of  John  Adams.  Oue  day 
as  he  rummaged  amidst  his  stores,  a  book  turned  up.  Tliat  book  was 
the  Bible  —  a  volume  to  which  he  had  long  been  a  stranger.  In  early  life, 
when  he  wandered  as  an  errand  boy  about  the  streets  of  London,  he  had 
taught  himself  to  read  by  perusing  the  bills  upon  the  walls.  And  now 
was  to  be  seen  the  value  even  of  that  piartial  knowledge.  It  iiad  pre- 
pared him  to  read  the  word  of  God.  Take  courage,  then,  Eagged  or 
Sunday-school  teachers,  in  your  self-denying  labours  of  love.  That  rude, 
wayward,  and  uncouth  child,  whom  you  train  with  difficulty,  and  amidst 


150  POKTFOLIO  or  ENTERTAIXMEXT 

sore  discouragement,  may  yet,  in  the  providence  of  God,  be  thrown  into 
circumstances  where  the  instruction,  now  seeming!}-  so  valueless,  may  be 
all  potential  for  good. 

But  to  return  to  Adams.  He  opened  the  Scriptures.  His  soul  was 
sick  atid  weary  of  tlie  scenes  of  outrage  and  lawlessness  which  he  had 
witnessed,  and  in  the  silence  of  the  night  his  sleep  had  been  troubled  and 
disturbed  by  recollections  of  the  past  and  apprehensions  of  the  future. 
He  had  been  made  to  eat  of  the  fruit  of  his  own  ways,  and  his  own 
wickedness  had  corrected  him.  And  now  he  turns  over  the  volume. 
Can  there  be  hope,  be  thinks,  within  its  pages  for  such  as  he?  Yes, 
blessed  be  God  !  there  is.  As  he  glances  through  it,  texts  like  these,  per- 
advonture,  may  meet  his  eye :  "As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no 
f)leasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  that  the  wicked  turn  from  bis 
wickedness  and  live."  "  Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  bo 
as  white  as  snow;  though  the^-  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as 
wool."  What  then  is  to  be  the  issue  of  these  studies  ?  Many  have  gone 
thus  far,  who  go  no  further.  Many  have  been  thus  aroused,  and  yet 
slept  once  more  the  sleep  of  sin.  Meanwhile  we  may  say  of  Adams,  as 
was  declared  of  one  of  old,  "Behold  he  prayeth." 

In  passing  tlirougb  the  streets  of  the  great  metropolis,  our  attention 
has  not  unfrequently  been  drawn  to  the  operations  of  some  workmen 
engaged  in  sculpturing  the  front  of  a  public  building.  When  a  device 
of  more  than  usual  attractiveness  has  had  to  be  wrought,  the  artist, 
hidden  behind  a  screen,  has  toiled  from  da}'  to  day,  the  passers-by  re- 
maining unconscious  of  what  was  going  on  within.  At  last,  when  the 
work  has  been  completed,  the  covering  is  removed,  and  to  the  view  of  all 
there  stands  forth  a  graceful  production  that  e.xtorts  the  admiration  of 
every  beholder.  We  are  reminded  of  this  comparison  as  we  trace  the 
history  of  Piteairn. 

A  quarter  of  a  century  had  rolled  away  since  the  mutiny  of  the  Bounty 
had  taken  place,  and  the  circumstances  attending  that  event  had  been 
almost  forgotten  by  the  public,  absorbed  as  its  attention  had  been  by  the 


AND     I  X  S  T  II  U  C  T  I  0  X .  151 

exciting  events  of  tlio  French  Revolution  and  tlic  war  witli  Xapoleon. 
In  the  year  1814,  however,  two  English  men-of-war,  towards  the  close 
of  an  evening  in  September,  finind  themselves  near  an  island,  in  a  lati- 
tude where  their  charts  gave  them  no  indications  of  such  a  spot  being 
situated.  When  morning  dawned,  habitations  were  discovered,  but  so 
neat  and  orderly  in  their  structure  as  to  carryback  tlie  spectators  to  asso- 
ciations rather  of  civilized  than  savage  life.  While  man-elling  what  all 
this  indicated,  a  canoe  was  seen  to  put  from  the  shore,  guided  bv  two 
j'outliful  natives,  one  of  them  tall,  dark-haired,  and  with  features  intelli- 
gent and  interesting.  We  might  almost  fancy  the  officers  of  the  men- 
of-war,  as  they  gazed  on  the  little  skiff  that  was  approaching  them, 
grieving  that  countenances  so  expressive  should  belong  to  inhabitants 
sunk  in  barbarism,  when  to  their  astonishment  the  young  Polynesians 
hail  them  in  the  English  tongue.  Their  amazement,  however,  rose  still 
higher,  when  on  ottering  tlie  youths  refreshment,  after  they  had  come 
on  board,  they  both  reverently  stood  up,  and  putting  their  liands  together 
in  an  attitude  of  devout  supplication,  exclaimed,  (still  in  the  mother 
tongue  of  Old  England,)  "  For  what  we  are  about  to  receive  the  Lord 
make  us  truly  thankful."  The  unknown  character  of  the  island,  sur- 
prise at  hearing  the  language  of  their  native  land  spoken  in  such  a  sjiot, 
and  the  simple  piet3-  of  the  youths,  all  filled  the  spectators  with  astonish- 
ment; but  before  we  can  explain  the  mystery,  we  must  return  to  him 
whom,  in  a  former  part  of  our  narrative,  we  left  engaged  in  prayer. 

If  tliere  is  an  liour  in  the  history  of  the  scHil  more  momentous  than 
another,  it  is  that  in  which  the  Spirit  of  God  strives  with  the  conscience 
of  the  awakened  sinner,  and  when  on  the  one  side  the  woi'ld,  and  on  the 
other  the  realities  of  things  to  come,  contend,  as  it  were,  for  the  mastery. 
"When  the  Holy  Spirit,"  it  has  been  well  remarked,  "brings  man  up  to 
that  line  where  nothing  separates  liim  from  the  Saviour  but  man's  own 
determination — when  awakened,  convinced,  impressed,  sensitive  and 
sorrowing,  the  Saviour  stands  before  liim,  offers  to  him  everything  freely, 
and  asks  him  to  obey  him  —  0,  could  his  heart  reply,  '  I  will,' —  could  ho 


152  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

resolve  to  turn  at  once  from  every  tempting  oppof?er  and  follow  Jesus 
only,  and  make  one  sacrifice  of  pride  and  indolence  and  fear,  to  enter 
into  covenant  with  Christ  —  the  conquered  enemy  would  depart  from 
him.  Angels  would  shout  a  Saviour's  glory  over  another  soul  rescued 
as  a  brand  i:)lucked  out  of  the  fire.  But  if  such  an  oiFer  and  such  grace 
are  rejected,  the  despised  Spirit  rarely  returns."  * 

It  was  such  a  decisive  hour  with  John  Adams;  but,  happily,  he  re- 
pented and  humbled  himself  before  God.  lie  came  to  the  Saviour  in 
earnest  and  cleaved  to  him  in  faith  for  salvation.  Nor  was  his  applica- 
tion in  vain.  Peace,  shed  abroad  b}'  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  due  time  visited 
liis  soul,  and  he  resolved  henceforth  to  live  no  longer  to  himself,  but  unto 
God. 

It  is  the  property  of  true  religion  that  it  is  unselfish  in  its  character, 
and  that  it  is  distinguished  by  eflforts  for  the  good  of  others.  These 
qualities  soon  manifested  tliemselves  in  Adams.  On  looking  around  he 
had  been  grieved  to  see  the  young  children  growing  up  untended  and 
uncared  for,  all  the  vices  of  heathenism  threatening  to  be  developed  in 
them.  He  longed  to  remedy  the  evil,  and  while  he  pondered  the  matter, 
a  means  of  doing  so  was  unexpectedly  related.  "Having  wanted  a  piece 
of  ground  broken  up,  in  order  to  plant  some  yams,  he  had  promised  two 
youths,  Edward  Quintal  and  Robert  Young,  the  pi-esent  of  a  small  vial 
of  gunpowder  if  they  would  undertake  the  task.  After  the  ground  had 
been  broken  up  and  the  yams  planted,  the  two  youths  asked  him  which 
would  please  him  best,  to  give  them  the  gunpowder  or  to  teach  them 
some  lessons.  Pleased  with  the  remark,  he  offered  them  the  gunpowder 
as  well,  which  they  refused.  He  then  told  them  that  if  there  were  any 
more  of  their  companions  who  would  like  to  be  taught,  he  would  teach 
them.  The  consequence  was  that,  much  to  John  Adams's  delight,  the 
whole  of  the  children  came  to  him,  and  soon  acquired  such  a  thirst  for 
instruction  that  he  had  little  else  to  do  than  to  answer  their  inquiries." 

Such  was  the  first  school  at  Pitcairn.  The  old  mutineer,  whose  lips 
*  Tyng's  "  Christ  is  All." 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  153 

had  uttered  lilasphcniics,  now  tanglit  Lis  young  charge  to  lisp  the  pleas- 
ing accents  of  their  Creator's  praise.  The  knowledge  of  the  true  God 
and  Saviour  was  proclaimed  among  them,  and  the  Bihle  made  the 
standard  of  their  actions.  The  Lord's  day  was  also  honoured ;  and  so 
gently  and  wisely  was  the  whole  work  accomplished,  that  gradually  a 
little  colony  of  forty-six  individuals  grew  up  around  John  Adams,  looking 
to  him  as  a  patriarch,  and  a  guide  in  all  their  temporal  and  spiritual 
matters.  The  English  tongue  was  the  language  spoken ;  and  well  did 
the  little  group  i-epresent  the  nation  from  whom  they  thus  claimed 
descent.  In  appearance  they  were  liandsome ;  their  faces  beamed  with 
kindness,  while  their  bearing  was  modest  and  becoming;  immorality 
was  unknown  in  their  midst,  scandal  was  studiously  banished,  diligence 
was  promoted,  and  such  of  the  arts  as  their  instructer  had  carried  with 
him  from  Europe,  were  taught  them,  so  that  comfort  pervaded  their 
dwellings.  Contrasted,  indeed,  with  what  had  preceded  it,  the  scene  was 
strikingly  beautiful,  resembling  a  fair  morning  chasing  away  the  clouds 
and  darkness  of  a  gloomy  night.  And  all  these  blessed  results  pro- 
ceeded, be  it  remembered,  from  carrying  out  the  precepts  of  the  Bible. 
The  one  copy  of  that  volume  which  had  been  carried  ashore  from  the 
wreck  of  the  Bounty  had,  by  the  blessing  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  wrought 
out  this  transformation !  Talk  of  bibliolatry !  We  cannot  exalt  too 
highly  the  efhcacy  of  the  word  of  God,  as  the  great  lever  for  the  regene- 
ration and  elevation  of  society.  What  it  did  for  Pitcairn,  it  is  able  to 
do  for  all  the  dark  places  of  the  earth.  Well  has  an  able  writer  said 
upon  this  subject: — "No  sooner  is  the  Bible  fairly  entrenched  in  a 
country,  and  its  great  truths  transcribed  by  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  the 
hearts  of  the  people,  than  there  begins  to  be  a  remodelling  of  their 
domestic  architecture.  Natural  affection  resumes  its  proper  sway.  The 
conjugal,  parental,  and  filial  relations,  dovelope  their  beautiful  tracery. 
The  wife  is  clothed  with  her  rightful  honours  as  the  equal  and  com- 
panion of  her  husband.  Children  are  made  the  objects  of  a  vigilant  and 
tender  care ;  and  households  gradually  cast  off  their  uncouth  and  revolt- 


154  PORTFOLIO     OF     EKTEllTAINJIEXT 

ing  attributes,  and  confomi  to  tlio  Scripture  pattern.  To  eifect  a  revolu- 
tion like  this  in  a  nation,  is  to  achieve  a  coucpest,  the  moral  si)lendour 
of  which  surpasses  the  gloiy  of  all  Caesar's  and  Napoleon's  victories." 

But  it  is  time  to  return  to  the  visitors  to  Pitcairn.  On  landing,  all 
that  thej  saw  breathed  peace  and  serenity ;  and  the  little  spot  seemed 
like  some  Eden  bower,  restored  to  a  sin-stricken  world.  They  gazed 
with  wonder  on  the  scene,  and  reassuring  John  Adams,  whose  mind  had 
been  troubled  at  their  visit,  they  again  set  sail,  carrying  to  their  native 
land  the  tidings  of  what  they  had  witnessed.  About  the  same  period, 
news  reached  the  country  of  the  triumphs  of  the  missionary  labours  long 
pursued  in  Tahiti  and  elsewhere ;  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  wilderness 
was  literally  about  to  blossom  like  the  rose. 

Time  wore  away,  and  many  years  had  elapsed,  when  in  1825  another 
ship-of-war  again  approached  Pitcairn.  Her  officers  found  the  good 
work  still  prospering,  and  love  and  harmony  pervading  the  little  com- 
munity'. Upon  landing  and  retiring  to  rest,  the  evening  hymn,  chanted 
b}'  the  islanders,  soothed  their  slumbers ;  and  at  dawn  of  day  they  were 
awoke  by  the  strains  of  the  morning  hymn.  On  the  Lord's  day,  again, 
equally  pleasing  signs  i:)resented  themselves.  The  little  community 
crowded  their  humble  sanctuary,  no  work  of  any  kind  being  permitted 
to  take  place.  Great  devotion  was  apparent  in  every  individual;  and 
even  among  the  children  there  was  a  seriousness  unknown  in  the  younger 
part  of  our  communities  at  home.  A  sei'mon  was  delivered ;  but  here,  we 
fear,  the  inhabitants  of  ritcairn  will  find  few  European  admirers  or  imi- 
tators. It  was  read  over  three  times,  lest  any  part  of  it  should  be  forgotten. 
"The  service,"  observes  a  spectator,  "was  very  long;  but  the  neat  and 
cleanly  appearance  of  the  congregation,  the  devotion  that  animated  every 
countenance,  and  the  innocence  and  simplicity  of  the  little  children,  pre- 
vented the  attendance  from  becoming  wearisome."  With  respect  to 
Adams  himself,  the  same  narrator  states  that,  from  close  observation,  he 
had  no  doubt  of  the  sincerity  of  his  piety.  Adams  was  on  board  the 
vessel  that  had  arrived  from  England,  for  two  or  three  days,  and  slept  in 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  155 

tlic  captain's  caljiu  ;  but  lie  would  never  got  into  bed  till  tlio  captain  bad 
got  into  bis  and  was  supposed  to  bo  asleep,  wben,  in  a  retired  corner  of 
tbe  cabin,  be  fell  on  bis  knees  and  performed  bis  devotions ;  and  be  was 
always  up  first  in  tbe  morning  for  tbe  same  purpose. 

"All  tbat  remains  to  be  said,"  concludes  tbis  writer,  "of  tbcse  excel- 
lent people,  is,  tbat  tbey  appear  to  live  togetber  in  perfect  barniony  and 
contentment ;  to  be  virtuous,  religious,  cbeerful,  and  bospitable,  bej'ond 
tbe  limits  of  prudence;  to  be  patterns  of  conjugal  and  parental  affection, 
and  to  bave  no  vices.  We  remained  witb  tbem  many  daj's,  and  tbeir 
unreserved  manner  gave  us  tbe  fullest  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted 
witb  any  faults  tbey  migbt  bave  possessed." 

In  1829,  forty  years  after  tbe  mutiny  of  tbe  Bount}',  Jobn  Adams  died, 
full  of  years  and  full  of  bouours.  Tbe  excellency  of  tbe  latter  part  of 
bis  life  bad  tbrown  into  tbe  sbade  tbe  stains  of  its  opening;  wbile  tbe 
vices  b}'  wbicb  bis  earlier  j-ears  were  stamped,  made  only  more  distiu- 
guisbing  and  glorious  tbe  grace  of  tbat  Saviour  wbo  bad  wrougbt  sucb 
transforming  etiects  in  bis  life  and  cbaracter.  After  sucb  an  example  as 
bis,  no  one  wbo  unfeignedly  seeks  tbe  Saviour  need  despair  of  accept- 
ance ;  and  after  sucb  au  example,  too,  we  may  add,  no  one  ougbt  to 
doubt  tbe  I'cality  of  tbat  great  cbange  wbicb  Scripture  speaks  of  as  neces- 
sary before  we  can  enter  tbe  kingdom  of  beaven.  Yes,  reader,  conver- 
bIou  and  regeneration  are  not  idle  or  unmeaning  terms,  but  solemn  and 
momentous  realities.  Nor  is  tbeir  necessity  confined  to  cbaracters  so 
abandoned  as  Adams  bad  been  ;  for  tbe  moral  and  amiable,  as  mucb  as 
tbe  open  sinner,  require  tbis  groat  cbange  to  pass  upon  tbeir  soul.  0  ! 
lot  tbis  question,  tlien,  dwell  witb  tbe  reader,  till  it  obtain  au  answer  — 
"Am  I  converted  to  God?  Am  I  tbe  subject  of  tbe  rogeueratiug  influ- 
ences of  bis  Spirit?" 

Tbe  former  scboolmaster  and  present  pastor  of  Pitcairn  is  George  H. 
E"obbs,  a  plain  weatber-beateu  man,  past  middle  life.  As  be  walked 
tbrougb  tbe  streets  of  London,  he  complained  of  being  stunned  and  con- 
fused by  tbe  noise  tbat  broke  upon  bis  car;  for  during  tbe  previous  five 


156  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

and  twenty  years  he  had  been  living  in  stilhiess  and  repose,  upon  the 
island  of  Pitcairn.  Yet  his  had  been  no  unexciting  life ;  for,  before  retreat- 
ing to  the  solitude  of  the  Pacific,  he  had  mingled  largely  in  the  strifes 
and  agitations  of  the  world. 

He  was,  in  early  youth,  a  midshipman  in  the  British  navy.  He  after- 
wards served  in  the  South  American  revolutionaiy  war ;  and  from  the 
perils  out  of  which  he  emerged  previous  to  becoming  a  good  soldier  of 
Jesus  Christ,  he  may  be  said,  literally,  to  have  been  presented  "  unto  the 
faith."  After  seeing  much  of  the  horrors  of  civil  strife,  he  took  passage 
to  England  in  a  ship  which  had  just  touched  at  Pitcairn.  The  story 
which  was  told  him  by  the  captain,  of  the  peace  and  happiness  that  per- 
vaded that  spot,  powerfully  influenced  his  mind,  contrasting  as  they  did 
with  the  scenes  of  slaughter  and  carnage  which  he  had  witnessed.  The 
grace  of  God  had  touched  his  heart,  and  he  longed  henceforth  to  live  for 
the  good  and  happiness  of  his  fellow  creatures. 

How  to  get  to  the  spot  which  he  so  much  desired  to  visit,  was  a  pro- 
blem difficult  to  solve ;  but  at  last,  in  a  frail  barque  of  eighteen  tons 
burden,  navigated  by  himself  and  one  other  individual,  he  reached  the 
island,  was  received  by  John  Adams  with  kindness,  and  after  the  death 
of  that  patriarch,  devoted  himself  to  the  instruction  of  the  children.  He 
held  on  his  way  through  good  and  evil  report,  for  even  of  the  latter  —  as 
all  men  who  will  labour  for  Christ  must  expect  —  he  had  his  share.  "He 
is  probably,"  wrote  one  on  hearing  of  his  arrival,  "one  of  those  half- 
witted persons  who  fancy  they  have  received  a  call  to  preach  nonsense 
—  some  cobbler  escaped  from  his  stall,  or  tailor  from  his  shojj-board; 
and  it  is  but  too  evident  that  the  preservation  of  the  innocence,  simplicity, 
and  happiness  of  these  amiable  people,  is  intimately  connected  with  his 
speed}'  removal  from  the  island."  Happily,  never  was  prognostication 
more  completely  falsified.  Mr.  Kobbs  became  a  real  blessing  to  the 
community;  and  by  his  holiness  of  life,  as  well  as  by  a  course  of  instruc- 
tion based  on  the  word  of  God,  carried  on  and  advanced  the  good  work 
which  Adams  had  begun. 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  1"7 

"We  cannot,  perhaps,  better  illustrate  tlie  evangelical  spirit  whicli  per- 
vades this  excellent  man  than  by  transferring  to  our  pages  a  few  simple 
verses,  which  he  has  composed  for  the  use  of  his  island  ilock. 

"  I  -will  not  encumber  my  verse 

With  metaphor,  figure,  or  trope, 
Nor  will  I  the  praises  rehearse 

Of  aught  in  creation's  wide  scope. 
My  Bible  shall  furnish  the  theme, 

My  subject  will  angels  applaud, 
My  soul  shall  rejoice  in  his  name, 

My  Brother,  my  Saviour,  my  God. 

"  My  Brother !     How  grateful  that  sound. 

When  sorrow  preys  deep  on  the  heartj 
When  malice  and  discord  abound, 

What  balm  can  a  brother  impart ! 
A  tender,  unchangeable  Friend, 

On  whose  bosom  'tis  sweet  to  recline. 
Ever  prompt  to  assist  or  defend ; 

Such  a  Friend  —  such  a  Brother  is  mine. 

"  My  Saviour  !     Thrice  glorious  name ; 

But  who  of  the  children  of  men 
The  wondrous  appointment  may  claim, 

Or  who  can  the  title  sustain  ? 
Immanuel,  Jesus,  alone 

Doth  fulness  and  fitness  combine; 
lie  only  for  sin  can  atone. 

And  he  is  my  Saviour  —  e'en  mine." 

It  having  been  judged  expedient  by  many  of  the  friends  of  Pitcairn, 
and  having  been  wished  by  the  islanders  themselves,  that  Mr.  Nobbs 
should  bo  regularly  ordained  to  the  office  of  the  Christian  ministry,  he 


158  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

returned  to  his  native  land  for  tliat  purpose,  in  August,  1852.  The 
scene  which  took  place  on  his  departure  showed  the  estimation  in  which 
he  was  held.  His  little  flock  accompanied  him  to  the  shore,  and  with 
tears  and  embraces  bade  him  a  tender  adieu. 

On  his  arrival  in  England,  Mr.  Nobbs  created  much  interest,  and  was 
introduced  to  her  Majesty.  The  statements  which  he  has  furnished  re- 
specting his  interesting  charge,  enable  us  now  with  accuracy  to  ascertain 
the  real  condition  of  Pitcairu,  to  which,  we  may  observe,  he  has  sub- 
sequently returned. 

"When  Captain  Basil  Hall  visited  Loo  Choo,  he  was  charmed  with  the 
apparent  innocence  of  the  unsophisticated  children  of  nature,  which  its 
inhabitants  appeared  to  bo.  Subsequent  investigations  of  voyagers,  how- 
ever, proved  that  the  air  of  simplicity  was  only  assumed,  and  that  the 
Loo  Chooans  masked  under  the  garb  of  gentleness,  the  ordinary  qualities 
of  heathen  life.  ISTo  investigation,  however,  of  the  work  at  Pitcairn  has 
revealed  an}-  such  disappointing  result.  It  has  stood  the  test  of  experi- 
ence, and  each  successive  visitor  has  confirmed  the  testimony  of  his 
predecessor,  showing  that  the  fruits  produced  there  have  been  those 
springing  from  Christian  principles  and  the  diffusion  of  scriptural  truth. 
Captain  Worth,  who  visited  the  island  in  1848,  says:  —  "I  never  was  so 
gratified  as  by  my  visit,  and  would  rather  have  gone  there  than  to  any 
part  of  the  world.  .  .  .  Time  presses,  and  I  will  only  now  say,  that 
they  are  the  most  interesting,  contented,  and  happy  people  that  can  be 
conceived.  The  comfoi-t,  peace,  strict  morality,  industry,  and  excessive 
cleanliness  and  neatness  that  were  apparent  about  them,  were  really 
such  as  I  was  not  prepared  to  witness ;  their  learning  and  attainments  in 
general  education  and  information  are  really  astonishing ;  the  men  and 
women  are  a  fine  race,  and  their  manners  really  of  a  superior  order  — 
ever  smiling  and  joyous;  but  one  mind  and  one  wish  seems  to  actuate 
them  all.  Crime  appears  to  be  unknown ;  and  if  there  is  really  true 
happiness  on  earth,  it  is  surely  theirs.  The  island  is  romantic  and  beau- 
tiful ;  the  soil  of  the  richest  description,  yielding  almost  every  fruit  and 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  159 

vogetaLle.  In  sliort,  it  is  a  little  paradise."  Even  the  common  sailors 
who  have  occasionally  been  permitted  to  land,  have  been  struck  with  the 
appearance  of  the  spot,  and  awed  by  the  virtuous  example  of  the  inhabi- 
tants. One  rough  seaman  wliom  a  gentleman  had  spoken  to  in  praise 
of  the  exemplary  conduct  which  his  companions  had  showed  when  upon 
the  island,  replied:  "  Sir,  I  expect  if  one  of  our  fellows  were  to  misbe- 
have himself /jere,  we  should  not  leave  him  alive." 

The  secret  of  this  excellence  finds  a  solution  in  the  memorable  remark 
of  Mr.  Xobbs.  A  gentleman  had  asked  him  how  he  accounted  for  such 
an  absence  of  evil  amongst  the  inhaljltants  of  Pitcairn ;  how  it  agreed 
with  the  belief  that  all  mankind  are  sinful,  and  with  the  teaching  of  the 
Bible  on  the  subject.  "Because,"  Mr.  ISTobbs  answered,  "the  children 
have  no  bad  example  before  their  eyes ;  evil  is  no  doubt  in  them,  as  in 
all  other  human  beings,  but  there  is  no  encouragement  from  without  to 
bring  it  to  the  surf;iec ;  tlie  Bible  is  the  daily  and  hourly  rule  of  life ;  if 
a  dispute  arise,  the}'  act  on  the  injunction,  'Let  not  the  sun  go  down 
upon  3'our  wrath.'  Again,  the  young  people  know  the^'  can  marry  when 
they  are  old  enough,  so  one  temptation  to  sin  is  removed ;  there  are  no 
differences  of  religious  opinion  amongst  thcru  ;  a  bad  word  or  an  indecent 
jest  are  unknown  upon  the  island,  nor  arc  intoxicating  liqixors  ever  seen." 

In  such  dread  and  abhorrence  are  strong  drinks  held  at  Pitcairn,  that 
one  of  the  first  enactments  of  their  little  code  guards  against  their  admis- 
sion. "No  person"  —  so  it  runs  —  "or  persons  shall  be  allowed  to  get 
spirits  of  any  sort  from  any  vessel.  No  intoxicating  liquor  whatever 
shall  be  allowed  to  be  taken  on  shore,  unless  for  medicinal  purposes." 

Loyalty  and  attachment  to  government  are  the  fruits  of  sound  religious 
training,  and  by  these  virtues  the  Pitcairners  are  distinguished.  "Fear 
God  and  honour  the  king,"  arc  two  commands  placed  together  in  the 
word  of  God,  which  they  have  not  separated.  The  queen's  birthda}'  is 
with  them  a  grand  festival ;  it  is  kept  up  with  feasting  and  dancing,  (the 
only  day  they  are  allowed  to  dance  on  the  island,)  and  almost  the  first 
question  everybody  asks  is,  "How  is  her  majesty  the  queen?" 


160  -PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

Anofher  enactment  of  their  little  community  will  almost  provoke  a 
smile.  Being  mucli  aiHicted  with  rats,  the  cat  is  in  consequence  an 
animal  of  great  value.  The  person  killing  one  must,  as  a  penalty,  destroy 
three  hundred  rats,  and  exhibit  their  tails  for  the  inspection  of  the 
magistrate,  by  way  of  proof  that  the  penalty  has  been  paid. 

Of  the  spiritual  character  of  the  teaching  of  the  pastor  of  Pitcairn,  a 
pleasing  specimen  is  presented  in  the  fragment  of  one  of  his  sermons, 
delivered  on  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  two  of  the  islanders. 
"Form,"  he  said,  addressing  the  young  couple,  "the  holy  resolution 
that  you  and  your  house  will  serve  the  Lord ;  and  having  made  this  reso- 
lution, persevere  in  it  till  death.  Be  diligent  in  reading  the  word  of  God, 
and  causing  it  to  he  read  in  your  family.  '  Search  the  Scriptures,  for 
in  them  ye  think  ye  have  eternal  life,'  is  a  precept  of  our  hlessed  Lord ; 
and  parents  are  in  a  peculiar  manner  bound  to  instruct  their  children  in 
the  knowledge  of  the  word  of  God.  Family  prayer  is  a  duty  as  ahso- 
lutely  necessary  as  reading  the  word  of  God ;  for  prayer  is  an  excellent 
means  to  render  reading  effectual." 

It  were  well  that  these  counsels  were  remembered  in  other  families 
besides  those  of  Pitcairn.  The  happy  results  of  this  practical  teaching 
have  been  evidenced  in  the  calm  and  peaceful  deaths  of  many  of  the 
inhabitants,  whose  last  moments  have  been  crowned  with  triumph  and 
joy.  The  hymnology  of  the  Christian  church  has  also,  we  consider, 
received  a  rich  addition  in  a  hymn  in  which  Mr.  Nobbs  has  embodied  the 
dying  sentiments  of  one  of  the  islanders. 

"I  know  on  this  earth  my  Redeemer  shall  stand, 

And  these  eyes,  though  now  dim,  shall  his  glories  hehold; 
My  powers  so  reduced  shall  with  knowledge  expand, 

And  this  heart  throb  with  rapture,  which  now  beats  so  cold. 
His  voice  I  shall  hear,  and  in  accents  divine, 

Shall  I,  then  made  worthy,  a  welcome  receive; 
la  his  presence  to  dwell,  'twill  for  ever  be  mine, 

I  believe  —  I  believe. 


A  \  D    I  X  S  T  K  U  C  T  I  0  X .  "  161 

This  tlicn  is  my  hope,  and  I  am  not  deceived, 

On  the  word  of  my  God  I  can  fully  depend; 
I  know  by  the  Spirit  on  whom  I've  believed, 

That  he  will  support  and  console  to  the  end. 
Immanuel's  death  has  Jehovah  appeased, 

That  death  on  the  cross  did  my  ransom  achieve ; 
That  death  is  my  passport  when  I  am  released; 

I  believe  —  I  believe;   yes,  I  firmly  believe." 

Tlio  future  of  Pitcaim's  island  is  an  interesting  problem ;  but  it  is  not 
within  our  province  to  discuss  it,  nor  to  anticipate  those  changes  in  their 
condition  which  it  is  feared  must  ensue  from  the  increase  of  their  popu- 
lation, compelling  them  ere  long  to  seek  another  habitation. 

The  purpose  which  we  had  in  view  when  we  commenced  these  images 
has  now  been  accomplished.  We  proposed  to  show  the  moral  chemistry 
of  God,  extracting  good  out  of  evil;  and  all  must  admit  that  the  narrative 
before  us  has  most  satisfactorily  demonstrated  this.  The  chemist,  after 
dropping  his  mixture  into  a  dark  fluid,  sees  at  first  fermentation  ensue, 
and  then  out  of  the  elements  a  beautiful  snow-white  colour  emerges.  So 
was  it  in  this  remarkable  spot.  Murderers,  adulterers,  rebels  —  sucli 
were  the  parents  of  these  islanders,  and  such,  too,  was  John  Adams  him- 
self; but  he  was  washed,  he  was  sanctified,  and  he  was  justified  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  hj  the  Spirit  of  our  God ;  and  the  instru- 
mentality employed,  too,  was  the  Bible. 

"We  shall  but  weaken  the  force  of  our  story  —  for  has  it  not  all  the 
romance  of  one?  —  by  any  extended  application.  Yet  one  word  maybe 
said  in  conclusion.  Society  has  many  evils,  and  individual  life  has  many 
trials,  for  both  of  which  remedies  complex  and  costly  have  been  offered. 
But  do  we  not  carry  with  us  the  conviction  of  every  reader  when  we  say, 
that  after  the  lesson  Pitcairn  affords  us,  all  we  want  to  make  us  prosper- 
ous as  a  nation  and  happy  in  our  own  spuls  is  to  have  our  institutions 
based  upon  the  Scriptures,  and  our  hearts  purified  by  their  counsels? 
All  of  us,  indeed,  may  learn  a  good  lesson  from  Pitcairn. 
11 


162  PORTFOLIO    or    ENTEKTAINMENT 


flrc  5^Ininl)itcl(  6\\tsi  anlt  Un  ttow  gtbtors. 

N  the  course  of  his  ministry  on  earth,  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  received  an  invitation  to  "take  meat"  with  a 
Pharisee  and  his  friends.  lie  complied;  and  wliile  re- 
clining at  the  table,  another,  an  uninvited,  guest  entered 
- "  a  ^Yoman,"  it  is  said  by  special  emphasis,  who 
:^'^\  ^^  "  was  a  sinner." 
It  is  easy  to  be  imagined  that  every  eye  was  turned  towards  this  sinful 
woman,  thus  intruding  within  the  precints  of  sanctity,  with  amazement 
and  indignation.  Every  eye !  No,  we  are  wrong.  There  was  One  who 
seeth  not  as  man  seeth ;  and  by  him  was  discerned  that  in  the  approach- 
ing intruder  which  lighted  up  iiis  eye  with  benevolence  and  mercy. 
Look  up,  weeping  penitent ;  he  smiles !  and  when  Jesus  smiles,  it 
matters  little  who  frowns  ! 

Look  up !  How  can  she  look  up,  whoso  heart  is  bowed  down  with 
guilt  and  grief  ?  She  did  not  look  up;  but  hurrying  to  the  Saviour's 
feet,  she  cast  herself  there.  It  may  be  that  murmurs  of  disapprobation, 
contempt,  and  disgust,  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  spectators;  but,  little 
heeding  them,  she  thought  only  of  the  Great  Master  before  whom  she 
knelt.  To  her  perceptions,  he  only  was  present  —  the  object  of  her 
adoring  faith;  the  sinless  One,  but  "the  friend  of  sinners;"  and  she  — 
was  she  not  a  sinner?  Was  ho  not  her  friend,  then?  Surely  yes,  or 
why  was  she  there  ? 

"With  trembling  hands  and  a  throbbing  heart,  the  sinner  embraced  the 
feet  which  were  thereafter  to  be  nailed  to  the  cross;  she  "washed  them 
with  her  tears,  and  wiped  them  with  her  hair."  Then,  taking  from  her 
bosom  a  box  of  rich  and  costly,  perfume,  she  anointed  his  feet  and  kissed 
them. 

The  Pharisee  looked  on  in  silent  astonishment.     "  If  this  man  were  a 


AND    IXSTRUCTION.  1G3 

prophet,"  thouLjlit  he,  "ho  would  know  wliat  manner  of  woman  this  is, 
and  would  not  sufier  her  to  touch  him ;  for  she  is  a  sinner."  His  thoughts 
were  interrupted  hy  a  voice  which  we  may  well  conceive  thrilled  through 
the  souls  of  those  who  heard  it,  with  mingled  sweetness  and  authority,  for 
"  never  man  spake  like  this  man"  —  this  Jesus. 

"  Simon,  I  have  somewhat  to  say  to  thee  :  —  There  was  a  certain  credi- 
tor had  two  debtors;  the  one  owed  him  five  hundred  pence,  and  the 
other  fifty.  And  when  they  had  nothing  to  pay,  he  frankly  forgave  them 
both.     Tell  me,  therefore,  which  of  them  will  love  him  most." 

The  reply  was  natural  and  reasonable:  —  "I  suppose,"  said  he,  "that 
he  to  whom  he  forgave  most." 

"Thou  hast  rightly  judged,"  said  Jesus;  and  turning  to  the  woman, 
he  continued  his  address  to  the  Pharisee:  —  "Simon,  seest  thou  this 
woman  ?  I  entered  into  thine  house ;  thou  gavest  me  no  water  for  my 
feet ;  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with  her  tears,  and  wiped  them  with 
the  hairs  of  Iier  head.  Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss;  but  this  woman,  since 
the  time  I  came  in,  hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head  with  oil 
thou  didst  not  anoint;  but  this  woman  hath  anointed  my  feet  with  oint- 
ment. Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee,  her  sins,  which  are  many,  are  for- 
given, for  she  loved  much  ;  but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth 
little."    Then  speaking  to  the  penitent,  he  said,  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven." 

Then  began  the  assembled  guests  to  say  one  to  another:  —  "Who  is 
this,  that  forgiveth  sins  also?"  And  here  the  narrative  leaves  them. 
Here,  too,  we  leave  them,  to  ponder  over  the  lessons  which  it  teaches. 

For  instance,  we  may  learn  from  it,  if  we  will,  what  God  is  in  relation 
to  us;  and  what  we  are  in  relation  to  him:  he  is  a  creditor  —  we  are 
debtors.     In  other  words  —  we  are  sinners. 

Wo  will  admit,  reader,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  you  are  not  au 
enormous  transgressor,  that  you  have  committed  no  flagrant  crimes,  that 
you  have  all  your  life  long  acted  -svith  becoming  rectitude  towards  your 
fellows;  and  that  you  have  not,  by  any  outward  act  of  immorality  and 
rebellion,  exhibited  your  disobedience  and  dislike  to  your  Maker.    Wliat 


164  PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTEKTAIXMEXT 

tlicu?  "\\Tay  just  this;  you  Leave  not  showu  yourself,  as  you  suppose,  a 
great  sinner ;  but  are  you  not  a  sinner?  Look  back  througb  the  past; 
has  there  been  no  deviation  from  the  path  of  rectitude?  —  no  sin 
cherislied  in  the  heart?  —  no  inordinate  attachment  to  some  other  object, 
in  disparagement  of  tlie  chiims  of  Him  whose  requirement  is,  "  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  with  all  thy  might,  with 
all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength?"  —  no  rebellings  against  his 
government,  and  his  dealings  towards  you  iii  providence?  However 
momentary  the  wavering,  then,  and  apparently  slight  the  departure  from 
the  narrow  and  straight  line  of  obedience,  and  however  strong  the  tempta- 
tion which  has  drawn  you  astray,  you  are  a  sinner;  and  your  character, 
as  such,  is  fixed. 

We  may  learn,  too,  that  a  sinner  has  no  means  in  himself  of  avoiding 
or  escaping  the  consequences  of  sin  ;  the  debtor  has  uotliing  wherewith 
to  pay.  That  this  is  the  case  will  appear  if  we  bear  in  mind  that  we 
owe  to  God  a  whole  life  of  perfect  obedience ;  and  that  failing  in  this 
obedience  in  one  instance,  we  cannot  make  up  for  the  failure  by  future 
efforts.  There  is  nothing  strange  in  this:  the  principle  is  recognized  in 
our  dealings  with  each  other.  You  have  a  servant,  to  whom  you  intrust 
property.  Say  that  he  is  honest  in  general ;  but,  just  once,  temptation 
overcomes  him,  and  he  robs  you.  Will  his  partial  integrity,  or  his  care 
and  integrity  ever  after  that  lapse,  restore  to  you  what  he  has  taken 
away,  or  to  himself  the  character  which  he  previously  deserved  ?  As- 
suredly not ;  he  was  bound  to  be  ever  honest,  and  the  deficiency  remains 
unprovided  for. 

It  is  here  that  the  gospel  steps  in  with  its  announcement  of  pardon  to 
the  helpless  sinner  —  of  relief  to  the  bankrupt  debtor.  "  When  they  had 
nothing  to  pay,  he  frankly  forgave  them  both."  "  God  so  loved  the 
world  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  on 
him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  For  God  sent  not  his 
Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  world,  but  that  the  world  through 
him  might  be  saved." 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  165 

But  then  it  rests  -u-ith  God  to  decide  lioiv  sin  shall  be  forgiven ;  just  in 
the  same  waj-  that  a  creditor  is  entitled  to  dictate  the  medium  through 
which  he  is  willing  to  forego  and  blot  out  his  claim  on  an  insolvent 
debtor.  The  medium  that  God  has  appointed  for  the  forgiveness  of  sin, 
is  the  atonement  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  condition  on  the 
sinner's  part  is  that  of  faith  in  Christ.  "JSTeitheris  there  salvation  in 
any  other;  for  there  is  none  other  name  given  under  heaven  whereby  we 
can  be  saved."  "  lie  that  helieveth  on  him  is  not  condemned;  but  he 
that  believeth  not  is  condemned  already,  because  he  hath  not  believed  in 
the  name  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God." 

But  there  is  one  consideration  which  must  not  be  lost  sight  of.  When 
sin  is  compared  to  a  debt,  sinners  to  debtors,  and  God  is  represented  as 
a,  creditor,  the  language  implies  more  than  is  understood  in  a  monc}- 
transaction  between  man  and  man.  A  debt  may  be  contracted,  and  a 
debtor  become  insolvent,  without  stain  on  his  character  for  uprightness 
and  integrity;  and  in  this  case,  without  prejudice  to  moral  ju>tice,  the 
creditor  may  forgive  the  debt  without  an  equivalent  paid.  It  is  not  so 
with  sin  and  the  sinner.  Sin  is  the  transgression  of  God's  law,  and 
Divine  justice  requires  satisfaction ;  before  the  sinner  can  be  pardoned, 
justice  must  be  satisfied  ;  and  how  shall  this  be  accomplished?  Hear  the 
language  of  an  apostle :  "  For  when  we  were  yet  without  strength,  in 
due  time,  Christ  died  for  the  ungodly."  "He  is  the  ^propitiation  for  our 
sins."  "Well,  then,  may  the  pardoned  sinner  exclaim  in  grateful  adora- 
tion and  love,  "  0,  the  depth  of  the  riches,  both  of  the  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge of  God!  IIow  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past 
finding  out." 

This,  then,  is  the  way  of  God's  own  appointment  —  a  way  by  which 
he  can  be  just  and  the  justifier  of  the  ungodly.  This  is  the  salvation  of 
the  gospel.  It  follows,  then,  that  the  forgiveness  of  sin  is  all  of  grace. 
There  was  no  obligation  laid  upon  the  creditor  to  forgive  the  two  debtors. 
He  might  have  insisted  on  their  imprisonment  till  their  debts  were  paid. 


166  PORTFOLIO  OF  EKTERTAINMENT 

or  till  death  released  them  from  his  power.  So  it  is  with  God  in  the 
redemption  of  a  ruined  world. 

And  if  forgiveness  he. all  of  grace,  then  are  all  sinners  on  the  same  level 
of  incapacity  on  the  one  hand,  and  obligation  on  the  other.  Of  the 
debtors,  one  owed  fifty,  and  the  other  five  hundred  pence ;  but  they  were 
bankrupt,  and  the  creditor  frankly  forgave  them  both.  The  obligation 
to  pay  was  the  same  —  the  inability  the  same  —  the  mercy  extended  the 
same.  Let  not  then  the  Pharisee  exult  over  "  the  woman  that  was  a 
sinner."     Boasting  is  excluded.     Grace  alone  is  exalted. 

Reader,  how  much  owest  thou  thy  Lord  ?  How  much  for  daily 
mercies  ?  How  much  for  preserving  care  ?  How  much  for  forbearance 
in  spite  of  ten  thousand  provocations  ?  How  much  for  sins  wilfully  com- 
mitted since  you  knew  of  his  merciful  designs?  Is  it  fifty  pence?  is  it 
five  hundred  ? 

Are  you  able  to  pay  ?  Alas  !  you,  in  common  with  every  sinner,  are 
bankrupt.  Already  the  thunders  of  Divine  wrath  are  heard  ;  the  crisis 
is  approaching ;  the  debt  is  accumulating.  Is  there  no  hope  ?  .  .  . 
"And  when  they  had  nothing  to  pay,  he  frankly  forgave  them  both." 
"  There  is  forgiveness  with  thee  that  thou  mayest  be  feared."  "Able  to 
save  to  the  uttermost  all  that  come  unto  God  by  him."  "  Him  that 
cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  And  He  against  whom  the 
sinner  has  rebelled  is  the  merciful  One,  who  raises  the  prostrate  penitent, 
and  says,  "Thv  sins  are  forgiven  thee." 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  Itj7 


%\i  l0rb  IjiUIr  llctii  of  tljtt. 

"Tbe  Lord  hath  need  of  thee!"  — It  fell 

Upon  a  worldling's  ear, 
As  in  the  flush  of  youth  he  dashed 

Along  his  wild  career ! 
Like  Saul  of  Tarsus,  with  affright 
He  saw  his  Maker's  presence  bright; 
Then  lowly  bent  before  his  sight, 

"  Speak  —  let  thy  servant  hear  !" 

"  Lift  up  thine  eyes  upon  the  fields, 

The  whitening  harvest  see  ! 
There  as  the  labourers  are  few 

The  Lord  hath  need  of  thee ! 
Go  forth  with  speed  —  the  work  is  great, 
And  early  must  thou  toil  and  late, 
But  glory,  '  an  eternal  weight,' 

Thy  full  reward  shall  be." 

The  Lord  hath  need  of  him  !  —  he  rose 

And  did  his  high  behest; 
Eight  onward  to  the  mighty  task 

With  earnest  zeal   he  prest ! 
He  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  glow, 
A  hundred  homes  he  cheered  —  and  lo ! 
The  stricken  sons  of  crime  and  woe 

Arose  and  called  him  blest  I 

Through  all  life's  changeful  day  he  toils, 

Till  in  its  evening  dim. 
There  came  a  messenger  of  love, 

(  0  !   not  a  tyrant  grim  I ) 


168 


PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTERTAIXJIENT 

Who  told  him  in  fair  mansions  bright, 
Beyond  his  soaring  fancy's  flight, 
In  a  sweet  Paradise  of  light, 
The  Lord  hath  need  of  him. 

Dear  reader !   doth  thy  heart  desire 

To  be  as  blest  as  he? 
Know,  old  or  young,  or  rich  or  poor, 

Whate'er  thy  state  may  be. 
Ere  "come  up  hither"  soundeth  near, 
Like  heaven's  sweet  music  on  thine  ear, 
Now  in  his  own  wide  harvest  here. 

The  Lord  hath  need  of  thee. 


Jlustr;itions  of  f  tlf-Cflnqwtst. 


'^7)\ 


N  Dr.  Ilamiltou's  admirable  memoir  of  Eicharcl  Wil- 
liams, the  surgeon  missionary  to  Patagonia,  there  occurs 
a  remarkable  illustration  of  the  importance  of  self-denial 
as  a  means  of  growth  in  the  divine  life.  The  incident  iu 
question  has  particular  claims  upon  the  attention  of 
young  men.  It  is,  however,  interesting  to  all,  for, 
although  we  share  the  doctor's  estimate  of  the  habit  of  tobacco-smoking, 
it  is  not  as  a  lesson  against  that  practice  that  we  introduce  the  anecdote, 
but  as  a  proof  of  the  need,  if  we  would  be  happy  and  consistent  Chris- 
tians, of  our  putting  away  anything,  however  lawful  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances, which  interferes  with  our  progress  in  holiness. 

"  Some,"  says  the  doctor,  "  may  regard  the  homely  details  of  the  fol- 
lowing passage  as  a  dreadful  descent.     We  have  no  such  feeling.    It  is 


AND     INSTUl'CTIUX.  1G9 

in  sucli  contests  that  the  reality  of  men's  faitli,  and  tlie  value  of  their 
'frames'  are  tested.  And  the  Christianit}-,  however  rapturous,  which  has 
never  renounced  a  besetting  sin,  nor  conquered  a  bad  habit,  is  too  like 
the  patriotism  which  is  confined  to  toasts  and  national  melodies;  or  tlio 
filial  piety  which,  offering  fond  words  and  embraces  in  lieu  of  solid  ser- 
vices, tries  to  be  at  once  dutiful  and  self-indulgent.  Mr.  Williams  was 
honest.  He  believed  that  it  was  God's  will  that  he  should  give  up  a 
certain  gratification;  and,  though  some  would  have  tried  to  evade  the 
sacrifice,  tliougli  the}-  would  have  oftered  confessions  of  their  own  weak- 
ness, or  high-flown  protestations  of  their  general  devotedness,  in  lieu  of 
this  particular  obedience,  it  was  not  thus  deceitfully  that  he  dealt  with 
his  Heavenly  Father  and  with  himself 

"jSTor  should  we  be  sorry  if  Mr.  "Williams's  example  should  find  imita- 
tors amongst  our  readers.  It  is  true  that  Dr.  Parr  and  Robert  Ilall  were 
smokers.  It  is  true  that  many  good  men  are  fond  of  the  '  naughty  foreio-u 
weed,'  and  that  Rali)h  Erskine  'spiritualised'  it.  And  it  may  be  true 
that  under  its  influence  the  spirits  are  serene,  the  temper  mild,  and  the 
entire  man  in  a  state  of  comfortable  self-complacency.  But  we  prefer  the 
temper  which  is  independent  of  tobacco  ;  and  we  fear  that  in  its  self-com- 
placency there  is  something  illusive.  At  least  we  have  known  friends 
who,  under  its  influence,  fancied  themselves  far  up  Parnassus,  but  when 
the  fi)g  cleared  away,  it  proved  only  a  spur  of  the  mountain;  and 
although,  among  our  college  companions,  we  remember  clever  men  who 
smoked,  whilst  their  duller  neighbours  studied;  and  although,  in  the 
midst  of  the  meerschaum,  they  used  to  csp}-  gigantic  figures,  which  they 
hailed  as  their  own  glorious  future  ;  now  that  the  '  morgana'  has  melted 
there  is  a  sad  contrast -between  the  cloudy  colossus  and  the  slip-shod 
original  from  which  it  was  projected,  and  into  which  the  stern-dav-lio-ht 
has  resolved  it  again. 

"At  all  events  a  minister,  and  much  more  a  missionary,  should  deem 
himself  a  soldier;  and  the  less  dependent  he  is  on  these  time-wastin<>- 
enjoyments,  the  more  lightly  will  he  march,  and  the  more  ready  will  he 


170  PORTFOLIO     OF     I  X  T  K  U  T  A  1  K  Sr  E  ^'  T 

be  for  instant  action.  Besides,  a  soldier  nuist  endure  hardness.  It  is 
good  for  a  man's  Cliristianity  to  be  the  victor,  even  in  such  a  contest  as 
tlie  battle  with  tobacco.  Every  success  makes  him  a  stronger  and  a 
happier  man  ;  yes,  and  a  great  deal  richer.  In  this  warfare  there  is 
always  prize-money.  And  if  the  reader  is  a  lover  of  books,  or  if,  with  a 
most  benevolent  heart,  he  is  always  lamenting  his  empt}-  hand,  let  him 
attack  and  spoil  his  eneni}-.  The  cigar-ease  will  soon  fill  a  handsome 
book-case;  and  were  the  snuff-box  of  the  British  churches  converted  into 
a  box  of  charity,  it  would  maintain  all  our  missionaries,  and  would  soon 
pay  the  debts  of  our  chapels  and  schools." 

Then  follows  this  extract  from  Mr.  Williams's  journal :  — 
"Saturday,  Oct.  2G. — This  has  been  a  day  ever  to  be  remembered. 
The  light  of  the  Lord's  countenance  has  broken  upon  me,  after  having 
severely  felt  that  clouds  of  darkness  were  around  me.  For  more  than  a 
month  before  leaving  England,  I  had  given  up  the  practice  of  smoking 
and  taking  snuft'.  The  former  habit  I  had  practised  for  seven  or  eight 
years ;  the  latter  only  occasionally-.  In  fact,  it  was  in  consequence  of 
leaving  off  smoking  that  I  had  recourse  to  a  pinch  as- an  occasional  sub- 
stitute. At  various  times  I  have  been  under  strong  impressions  that  I 
ought  to  leave  it  off,  and  have  felt  dissatisfied  with  myself  for  the  self- 
indulgence.  But  the  cravings  after  it  were  become  so  strong,  and  the 
will  of  the  flesh  so  urgently  demanded  it,  that  it  was  no  easy  task  to  over- 
come the  propensity-.  There  is  a  charm  in  tobacco  powerful!}-  beguiling 
to  the  senses.  Whether  this  arises  from  its  soothing  and  sedative  quality, 
or  from  its  being  generally-  associated  with  self-indulgence  —  serving  as 
a  plea  for  idleness,  and  for  a  general  relaxation  of  the  whole  man,  body 
and  mind  —  certain  it  is,  tliat  tobacco  has  the  power  of  enslaving  its 
votaries  to  a  remarkable  degree.  Iso  one  has  ever  been  more  enslaved 
than  I  have  been;  yet  many  times  has  my  conscience  smitten  me;  and 
frequentl}',  whilst  in  the  act  of  smoking,  I  have  been  obliged  to  lay  the 
pipe  aside.  At  times  I  thonght  I  would  leave  it  off  altogether;  accord- 
ingly, I  have  given  away  or  burnt  the  stock  of  tobacco  I  had  in  hand. 


AXD     IXSTRrCTIOX.  171 

broken  my  pipes,  and  for  days  cssaj-cd  to  do  without  it.  Wliat  cravings 
—  what  a  sense  of  bereavement  have  I  folt !  Xone  but  an  old  smoker 
can  have  any  idea  of  my  miserable  longings.  I  have  cn\ied  the  hodnian 
and  the  meanest  person  with  his  short  black  pipe.  The  very  perfume 
was  a  treat  —  to  inhale  it  a  respite.  Painful  were  the  efforts  thus  made. 
A  toothache,  some  bodily  disease,  or  the  persuasions  of  others,  induced 
a  renewal  of  the  habit,  and  its  bond  became  stronger  than  ever.  But 
the  fiat  had  gone  forth,  '  Crucify  the  flesh  with  its  aficctions  and  lusts  ;' 
and,  blessed  be  God,  there  was  One  in  me  greater  than  all  that  were 
against  me.  Conscience  became  more  and  more  severe  upon  me.  At 
length  I  resolved  to  leave  it  oft",  and  hapjiily  succeeded  without  experi- 
encing any  uncomfortable  effects.  This  was  six  weeks  before  leaving 
England.  During  that  time  I  kept  my  firm  resolution,  though,  in  lieu 
of  smoking,  I  had  recourse  to  snuff".  Some  of  my  friends,  who  thought 
I  was  going  to  unnecessary  lengths  of  self-denial,  would  put  up  for  me, 
amongst  the  ecjuipments  for  ray  voyage,  both  tobacco,  cigars,  and  a 
canister  of  snuff",  and  they  made  me  promise  to  purchase  a  meerschaum. 
Well,  I  thought,  circumstances  may  possibly  be  such  as  to  render  it 
desirable  to  have  them  ;  so  I  yielded  to  their  wish.  On  board  I  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  of  taking  a  cigar  —  such  was  my  weakness;  giving 
them  freely  away,  and  smoking  them  daily,  my  stock  was  soon  exhausted ; 
but  all  the  cravings  for  tobacco  were  re-acquired.  I  took  to  the  meer- 
Bcliaum;  but  with  the  indulgence  came' the  condemnation.  My  con- 
science would  not  allow  me  to  continue ;  so  I  gave  the  canister  of  snuif 
to  the  captain  of  the  ship,  and  reserved  only  a  small  c|uantity.  Captain 
Cooper  likewise  had  my  meerschaum,  on  condition  of  my  not  requirino- 
it  again.  Three  or  four  days  passed  without  having  recourse  to  him  for 
it,  but  never  did  I  suff"er  such  cravings  after  it.  My  stomach  became 
aff'ectcd,  and  my  spirits  so  depressed  that  I  was  compelled  to  ask  for  it 
again.  With  a  sense  of  great  bodily  relief  and  comfort,  I  smoked  it; 
but,  alas  !  my  condemnation  was  great.  Ilurriedly  openiug  a  book  in 
my  hand,  the  question  of  the  Tsalmist  was  presented  to  my  eye.    'Lord, 


172 


PORTFOLIO     OF     EXTERTAISMENT 


who  shall  abide  in  thy  tabernacle?  who  shall  dwell  in  thy  holy  hill?  lie 
that  sweareth  to  his  own  hurt  and  chanyeth  not.'  The?e  words  were 
applied  to  my  mind  most  forcibly.  I  was  condemned.  But  now  I  saw 
my  duty;  and  sutler  what  I  might,  I  resolved  to  give  np  the  practice  in 
all  its  forms.  Having  sought  mercy  and  forgiveness  with  the  Lord,  and 
liis  grace  to  help  me,  I  gave  away,  in  good  earnest,  all  my  tobacco,  my 
pipe,  and  my  suufi-box,  and  I  threw  overboard  the  small  quantity  of 
snuff  I  had  reserved.     Thus  a  complete  riddance  was  effected." 


f'ljt  SfjtptorHli. 


N  a  large  old-fashioned  house,  standing  in  beautiful 
grounds  about  half  a  mile  from  the  sea-shore,  there  lived 
a  good  and  charitable  widow  lady  and  her  only  sou. 
This  sou  was  the  only  one  left  to  her  of  six  children,  with 
whom  at  different  ages  she  had  been  called  to  part;  and 
on  Edward,  the  sole  treasure  saved  from  the  household 
wreck,  her  affections  centred  with  all  the  fervour  of  a  very  loving  heart. 
She  did  not  show  her  love,  however,  as  some  mothers  show  it,  by  indulg- 
ing the  boy  in  every  wayward  fanc}',  and  leading  him  to  suppose  that 
the  world  was  made  for  him  ;  but  he  was  trained  carefully,  guided  wisely, 
tenderly,  and  firmly,  and  educated  for  heaven. 

I  cannot  tell  my  readers  the  depths  of  that  widow's  love.  lie  was 
not  merely  her  only  son,  but  he  was  a  good,  obedient,  and  loving  child, 
and  amid  all  the  sad  memories  of  the  past,  she  would  lift  uji  her  soul  in 
thankful,  joyful  hope,  that  this  child  was  God's  child,  and  that  they  would 
pass  eternity  together.  And  so  they  lived  in  the  world,  not  unto  them- 
Beh'cs,  but  unto  God.     When  the  eye  of  the  poor  saw  them,  it  blessed 


AND    IXSTRUCTION.  173 

them.  One  dull  afternoon,  however,  in  autnnin,  when  the  ISToveraber 
winds  were  out,  and  the  distant  sea  roared  fearfully,  the  mother  and  son 
sat  in  the  dim  twilight.  The  widow's  ejcs  were  full  of  tears,  and  not 
the  pressure  of  the  kind  hand  she  held  could  comfort  her  aching  heart  — 
for  the  wind  and  waves  had  a  recalling  voice.  It  reminded  her  of  one 
dear  child,  who  lay  buried  in  an  ocean  grave. 

"There  is  many  a  sorrowful  wife  and  mother  to-night,  my  Edward," 
she  said  mournfully;  "  God  protect  those  who  travel  on  the  deep  !" 

"  lie  is  there,  mother,  as  well  as  here,"  said  the  youth ;  and  again  they 
sat  silently  musing.  At  this  moment  the  old  butler  entered ;  his  quiet 
face  wore  an  anxious  expression  as  he  said :  "Ma'am,  there  is  a  ship  just 
struck  on  the  sands,  almost  in  front  of  our  house.    The  life-boat  is  going 

off,  and  I  thought  may  be,  Mr.  Edward" .     But  Edward  had  sprung 

up,  and  looking  for  the  consent  which  he  was  sure  to  find  in  his  mother's 
face,  he  was  soon  on  his  way  to  the  beach. 

"And  I  will  go  too,"  said  the  widow,  as,  wrapping  herself  in  her  dread- 
nought cloak,  she  and  the  old  butler  followed  the  rapid  steps  of  the 
onl}^  son. 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  beach,  twilight  had  merged  into  night. 
Xow  and  then  the  clouds,  as  they  rolled  in  heavy  masses  over  the  sk3\ 
unveiled  the  moon  which  had  just  risen,  but  it  was  onlj'  for  a  moment, 
and  seemed  but  to  make  the  darkness  more  intense.  The  billows  dashed 
with  a  deafening  noise  on  the  shingly  beach,  and  drowned  the  voices  of 
the  men  as  they  shouted  hopefully  to  the  crew  of  the  distant  ship,  or 
encouraged  the  life-boat's  men  to  exertions  for  the  perishing  ones.  Tiie 
life-boat  was  manned  at  last,  and  as  it  put  off,  the  moon's  light  showed 
to  those  on  the  shore  that  it  looked  but  a  featlier  on  tlie  waves.  Now  it 
was  lost  to  view;  now  it  appeared  again  ;  now  it  noared  the  vessel  ;  and, 
in  a  momentary  hush,  tlie  cry  and  wail  of  soriow  was  cliaiiged  for  one  of 
gratitude  and  joy.  And  now  the  boat  was  ploughing  its  way  through 
the  breakers,  when  a  heavy  sea,  rushing  forward  with  tlcstruetive  violence, 
sv.'cpt  it  as  a  toy  to  the  shore,  and  such  cries  of  mortal  agony  mingled 


174  PORTFOLIO    OF     EXTEllTAIXMEXT 

with  the  upi-oar  of  nature  as  j'ou  must  have  heard  to  believe.  "Lost! 
lost!"  said  those  ou  shore;  hut  not  so;  many  a  stout-hearted  seaman 
plunged  into  the  surf,  and  succeeded  in  rescuing  all  but  one.  When  the 
captain  himself,  a  good  swimmer,  reported  the  number  of  the  crew,  one 
was  missing —  an  orphan  lad,  whose  father,  the  pilot,  had  died  upon  the 
passage.  "What  should  be  done?  Those  capable  of  reflection  stood 
irresolute,  when,  during  a  hush  of  the  wind,  a  faint  shrill  crj^  was  heard, 
"Save  me;"  and  at  the  same  moment  a  speck  —  it  miglit  be  a  human 
fi)rm  —  it  miglit  be  a  fragment  of  the  vessel  —  was  discernible  in  the 
moon-beam.  But  hearts  and  bodies  were  now  alike  faint,  and  no  one 
stirred.  Perhaps  it  might  enter  into  the  hearts  of  some  that  it  was  but 
a  lad,  a  friendless  lad,  for  whom  no  one  would  mourn.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  the  boy  on  the  billows  was  within  a  few  moments  of  eternity,  when 
Edward  stepped  forward. 

"  Mother,  I  must  save  that  boy,"  he  said  ;  "  only,  without  j'our  blessing 
and  your  consent  I  will  not  venture." 

The  mother's  heart  beat,  and  wlio  can  wonder  that  she  laid  a  detaining 
baud  on  the  young  arm. 

"Motlier,  Ids  soul  is  as  precious  in  God's  sight  as  that  of  your  son  — 
speak  l)nt  the  word." 

"  Go,"  !ihe  said,  "  and  God  be  with  you  ;"  and  in  a  moment  he  was  in 
tlie  surf  lie  was  a  tall,  powerful,  atlilctic  youth;  but  at  the  moment  of 
being  borne  away  by  the  retreating  billows,  it  was  as  though  the  sea 
played  with  him,  as  he  might  have  played  with  a  shuttlecock.  After  a 
few  minutes  of  suspense,  be  and  his  insensible  charge  were  washed  ashore, 
both  pale  and  motionless.  The  friendless  child  was  spared ;  but  alas ! 
the  only  child  — he  on  whom  the  widow's  lieart  had  cast  anchor  so  firmly 
was  taken.  Still  she  did  not  murmur;  amid  nature's  agony,  she  recalled 
her  child's  last  words  —  "His  soul  is  as  precious  in  God's  sight  as  mine;" 
and  she  added,  "Yes,  and  perhaps  not  so  fit  for  his  presence." 

There  was  a  long  mournful  procession  to  the  church-yard,  a  few  days 
after   the   shipwreck.     Stalwart  fishermen,  strong-built   sailors,  village 


A  X  D    I  N  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  X .  175 

matrons,  and  cottage  maidens,  followcMl  the  salile  train,  and  many  a  tear 
bedewed  the  bronzed  (■h''('k  wiiich  liad  never  known  its  passage  there 
before. 

The  orphan  boy  thus  marvellously  saveil,  was  now  taken  to  the 
widow's  childless  home,  and  he  was  to  her  as  a  son  —  never  more  to  know 
the  hardships  and  the  perils  of  a  sailor's  life  —  never  more  to  endure  the 
rough  handling  of  the  world,  or,  during  early  youth,  its  sharp  temptations. 

The  prayers,  the  hopes,  the  labours  of  the  widow  were  now  directed 
to  the  friendless  one.  Year  after  year  passed  awa^-,  with  all  its  sad  recol- 
lections and  its  anxious  thoughts  for  the  future ;  and  as  the  lad  grew  up 
to  manhood,  each  year  added  to  the  weight  of  his  obligation.  There  was 
uo  response  of  gratitude  and  love,  liowever,  in  the  wandering  heart.  Xot 
the  knowledge  that  to  save  his  life  the  mother  had  given  uplier  so7i,  her 
own  and  only  son  —  that  she  had  taken  him,  an  orphan  and  helpless  lad, 
to  her  own  home  —  had  fed,  clothed,  and  instructed  him  —  awoke  one 
feeling  of  duty  or  obedience.  His  life  was  but  the  story  of  the  prodigal 
—  her  forgiving  love  on  his  return,  an  imitation  of  Ilini  whom  she  desired 
to  serve ;  but  his  were  the  prodigal's  sins  without  any  true  and  lasting 
repentance,  and  he  brought  her  gve^*  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave. 

And  now  we  would,  from  this  illustration  of  the  divine  love  —  faint 
indeed  and  imperfect  as  all  illustrations  of  the  divine  love  must  be  — 
ask  you,  reader,  what  feature  in  the  orphan's  character  strikes  you  with 
the  greatest  horror:  I  think  I  hear  you  say,  ingratitude,  standing  as  it 
does  in  such  strong  contrast  with  the  love  and  sacrifice  of  the  noble- 
hearted  mother,  who,  for  the  stranger  lad,  murmured  not  at  the  loss  of 
her  earthly  all.  Yet  there  is  not  a  sinner  upon  God's  earth  who  is  not, 
in  his  impenitent  state,  acting  towards  God  as  the  boy  acted  to  his 
deliverer.  God  gave  his  Son  for  you,  in  order  to  save  you  from  making 
shipwreck  of  your  soul ;  and  how  do  you  requite  him?  He  loadeth  you 
with  benefits,  he  would  bring  you  to  all  the  safety  and  comfort  of  a 
father's  house;  and  even  while  sinners  and  aliens,  Christ  died  for^ou. 
But  there  is  no  just  parallel  between  the  love  of  man  to  mau,  and  the 


17G 


PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTERTAINMKNT 


lovo  of  the  Saviour  to  us.  If  such  be  his  love  to  yon,  then  is  it  too  much 
that  he  asks  vou  for  a  child's  heart,  a  child's  service,  a  child's  aflection? 
Do  not  read  the  story  as  one  not  intended  for  you,  hut  listen  to  the 
words  which  in  tenderness  and  pathos  can  be  equalled  by  those  of  no 
earthly  parent — "  ily  son,  give  me  thine  heart;"  "wilt  thou  not  cry 
unto  me  from  this  time — My  father,  thou  art  the  guide  of  my  youth?" 


^Irc  ^torarfr  |Ul)ul!c^   bir  ^  CHllr. 


J^'^iL^\  T  was  a  railway  excursion  day,  and  the  carnages  were 
''S'lrK  nearly  full,  when  a  lady,  evidently  in  ill-health,  entered, 
-''-^^W>^  leading  a  little  son  of  four  or  five  years.  She  paused  and 
'W|i-^  looked  around  in  vain  for  a  vacant  seat.  The  gentleman 
^^^g,L^_-  by  my  side,  perceiving  her  embarrassment,  sprang  to  his 
"^  '^'^\  ^  feet  and  politely  offered  his  seat,  which  was  accepted 
with  a  grateful  acknowledgment.  She  was  about  to  take  the  little  boy 
in  lier  arms,  when  a  gentleman  on  the  opjiosite  side  extended  his  hands, 
saying,  with  a  winning  smile,  "  Come  here,  my  boy,  come  and  sit  down 
ujion  my  knee.  I  am  better  able  to  hold  you  than  your  mother  is."  The 
child  looked  up  for  his  mother's  consent,  and  then  joyfully  sprang  to  the 
seat  so  kindly  offered.  For  some  few  moments  the  gentleman  amused 
himself  by  asking  the  child  all  manner  of  questions,  drawing  out  his 
curious  ideas,  and  listening  with  satisfaction  to  his  artless  replies.  Soon, 
however,  his  attention  was  drawn  to  an  article  in  the  paper  he  had  just 
laid  aside,  and  giving  the  boy  some  sweetmeats,  he  entered  into  an 
earnest  political  discussion  with  another  gentleman  by  h.is  side.  At  first 
it  seemed  they  only  sought  amusement,  and  jokes  and  laughter  were 


A  X  D     1  N  S  T  R  I"  C  T  I  0  \  .  I  i  i 

frequently  intermingled  with  argunient.  But  the  contest  gradiuilly  waxed 
stronger,  until  at  length  jokes  were  exchanged  for  profanity. 

The  boy  had  been  very  happy  with  his  new  friend,  but  when  the  first 
profane  word  was  uttered,  he  looked  up  with  astonishment.  Tears 
gathered  in  his  large  black  ej-es,  and  laying  the  watch  carefully  aside, 
which  had  been  given  to  him  by  the  gentleman  for  his  amusement,  he 
slipped  quietly  to  the  floor,  and  fled  to  his  mother. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  my  dear  ?"  exclaimed  the  gentleman,  as  he 
saw  him  moving  oif.  "Come  back,  my  boy,  come  back,  I  thought  you 
were  very  happy  a  few  moments  since,  what  is  the  matter  now  ?  Come, 
you  are  a  fine  little  fellow,  come  and  see  what  I  can  find  for  you  in  my 
jjocket."  But  the  boy  clung  to  his  mother,  utterly  refusing  the  extended 
hand. 

"Well,  now,"  exclaimed  the  gentleman,  with  evident  chagrin,  "this  is 
very  strange.  I  do  not  understand  it.  Come,  my  boy,  tell  me  why  you 
left  me?" 

"  Tell  the  gentleman,  my  dear,"  said  his  mother,  encouragingly,  "  why 
you  do  not  wish  to  sit  with  him." 

"Because,"  said  he,  as  he  straightened  himself  back,  and  summoned 
all  his  resolution  for  the  efibrt,  "  the  Bible  says  we  must  not  sit  in  the 
seat  of  the  scorner." 

The  gentleman  looked  confounded.  For  a  moment  the  blood  rushed 
to  his  high  expansive  brow,  and  I  thought  he  was  angry.  The  mother 
was  also  surprised.  She  had  not  expected  such  a  reply.  But  the  man 
instantly  regained  his  composure,  and  pleasantly  said,  "I  hope  you  do 
not  call  me  a  scorner."  The  boy  leaned  his  head  upon  his  mother's 
shoulder,  but  made  no  reply.  "  Come,  tell  mo,"  continued  he,  "  why  do 
you  call  me  a  scorner?"  The  child  looked  up  and  simply  but  earnestly' 
said,  while  a  large  tear  stole  quietly  down  his  cheek,  "I  don't  like,  sir, 
to  hear  you  swear  so  !" 

"Oh!  that  is  it,  is  it?  Well,"  continued  he,  as  the  mother  pressed 
her  son  to  her  bosom,  and  bowed  her  head  to  hide  the  tears  which  were 
12 


178  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

starting  to  her  owu  ej-es ;  "  come  back  and  sit  with  me,  and  I  promise 
you  I  will  never  swear  again." 

"Won't  you?"  asked  the  child  earnestly,  "then  I  shall  love  you  very 
much  indeed."  Saying  this,  he  allowed  the  gentleman  again  to  place 
him  on  his  knee ;  but  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  he  did  not  go  back 
with  the  joyful ness  with  which  he  had  at  first  taken  the  seat.  The  gen- 
tleman saw  this.  He  felt  that  he  had  lowered  himself  in  tlie  esteem  of 
that  innocent  and  noble-minded  boy.  The  thought  evidently  gave  him 
pain.  And  he  did  all  he  could  to  efface  from  his  mind  the  unpleasant 
impression. 

In  ex2>lanation  of  this  affecting  scene,  his  mother  said  it  was  her  cus- 
tom to  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  every  morning  to  her  son,  explaining 
it  as  she  could,  and  then  pray  with  him.  That  morning  she  had  read 
the  first  Psalm,  and  when  explaining  to  him  the  character  of  a  scorner, 
among  other  vices  she  had  mentioned  profanity.  Not  fully  comprehend- 
ing the  subject,  but  resolved  at  all  events  to  do  right,  he  thought  it  was 
really  a  sinful  act  to  sit  for  one  moment  with  a  man  who  had  taken 
God's  name  in  vain.  "When,  0  when,  will  mothers  realize  the  vast 
amount  of  influence  thej'  are  capable  of  exerting  over  their  children  ? 
"When  will  they  realize  the  strength  and  pennanence  of  those  impressions 
received  in  childhood  ? 


AND    INSTRUCTION. 


179 


%U  CliiUrtn's  Slallt. 


T  was  a  fine  moroing  towards  the  middle  of  May,  and 
Editli,  Willy,  and  Grace  had  faces  as  bright  and  sunny 
as  the  blue  May  sky,  for  this  was  to  be  a  gala  day  with 
them,  being  the  birth-day  of  their  dear  grandpapa  at 
G ,  which  they  were  to  spend  with  hira,  not  return- 
ing until  noon  next  day.  It  was  a  great  treat  in  pros- 
pect, for  their  grandpapa  was  dearly  beloved  bj'  all  the  children,  and  his 
house,  too,  was  quite  a  museum  of  curiosities.  It  was  a  long  walk,  and 
there  was  some  doubt  whether  Grace,  the  youngest  of  the  three,  could 
accomplish  it;  but  she  was  so  sure  that  she  could,  and  Edith  and  "Willy 
BO  anxious  for  the  little  sister's  company-,  tliat  permission  was  at  last 
giv'en. 

It  would  soon  be  time  to  get  ready,  their  mamma  said ;  and  they  must 
set  off  before  the  heat  of  the  sun  commenced.  At  this  they  looked  very 
glad,  and  promised  to  be  good  and  obedient.  Jane,  the  nurse,  should 
take  them,  and  Edith  was  to  be  the  mother  for  the  day.  She  was  two 
years  older  than  AVilly,  and  more  than  four  years  older  than  Grace.  "  0, 
Edith  will  take  great  care  of  us,"  the  little  ones  said,  "when  we  are 
away." 

Eut  a  cloud  came  over  all  this  joy,  for  at  that  very  moment  of  its 
height,  nurse  came  down  and  said  that  baby  was  ill.  Nurse  could  not 
leave  mamma  with  a  sick  baby,  that  was  certain ;  and  the  little  faces, 
lately  so  glad,  became  suddenly  very  grave. 

"  They  know  the  way,"  said  the  father,  pitying  the  children  in  their 
disappointment;  "and  they  will  scarcely  have  need  to  go  into  the  town 
at  all ;  0,  let  them  go  alone." 
The  mother  looked  doubtful. 
"  We  know  the  wav,  mamma ;  it  is  such  a  straight  road  we  cauuot 


180  PORTFOLIO     OF    EXTERTAIXJIENT 

miss  it,"  said  Editli.  "  ^Vhcn  once  we  leave  the  little  lane,  it  is  quite  a 
straiglit  road  yon  know  to  tlie  town." 

"I  think  thej  maj-  be  trusted,"  said  the  father;  "Edith  is  more  than 
eleven  years  old,  and  if  she  will  only  "keep  to  the  high  road,  I  have  no 
fear  but  that  they  will  reach  their  grandpapa's  house  in  safety-." 

So  the  children  were  dressed,  and  after  many  cautious  had  been  given 
they  set  out  on  their  jouruey. 

"  We  are  Hke  pilgrims,"  said  Willy,  as  he  cut  a  hazel  twig  with  his 
new  knife.  "Here,  Gracie,  is  a  staff  for  you,  and  I  will  have  another. 
You  are  '  Great  Heart,'  Edith,  and  I  don't  thiuk  you  need  one.  Your 
parasol  is  a  iiue  shield  for  you ;  go  you  first,  and  Christian  and  Hopeful 
will  follow." 

So  they  walked  cheerfully  on.  The  morning  was  very  warm ;  there 
had  been  a  hcav}-  dew  quite  early,  but  that  was  fast  disappearing,  and 
the  road  was  dusty. 

"It  is  so  very  straiglit  and  tiresome!"  said  Willy.  "The  meadow 
path,  and  through  Deepdene,  would  be  more  cool  and  pleasant;"  and  he 
sighed.  Poor  little  pilgrim,  like  many  other  travellers  he  expected  the 
straight  way  to  be  an  easy  way;  but  that  was  not  promised.  Grace 
was  very  happy;  her  little  feet  soon  grew  weary  it  is  true,  but  she 
found  many  pretty  things  ou  the  road.  Tbe  flowers  were  bright 
and  lovely,  and  she  would  fain  have  lingered  to  pluck  them,  but  her 
mamma  had  warned  them  that  if  they  loitered  on  the  road,  the  noon-day 
sun  with  its  scorching  heat  would  make  them  faint  and  tired;  so  she 
looked  at  the  bright  forget-me-not  with  its  golden  eye,  sparkling  by  the 
little  way-side  stream,  but  she  did  not  stop  to  pluck  it.  She  admired  the 
delicate  veronica,  or  speedwell,  ou  the  hedge-rows;  but  she  believed 
Edith  when  she  told  her  that  it  would  quickly  fade  in  her  hand,  and  that 
it  was  not  worth  the  trouble  of  gathering.  Yet  she  enjoyed  the  flowers; 
thoy  helped  her  on  her  journey,  she  said,  and  caused  her  to  lift  up  her 
little  heart  to  the  Father  in  heaven  who  made  them  all. 

Willy,  in  the  meantime,  was  running  and  capering  about,  now  chasing 


AND     I  \  S  T  R  r  C  T  I  0  X  .  181 

the  butterflies,  now  clearing  some  little  ditcli  to  gather  prettier  flowers  in 
the  field  than  lie  found  on  the  road  side. 

"  I  shall  meet  you  at  the  white  gate,"  he  said,  merrily,  as  he  peeped  at 
them  over  the  low  hedge  which  divided  them  ;  "  0  the  grass  is  so  cool 
and  nice  to  the  feet;  what  a  pity  you  cannot  jump  over  and  walk 
with  me." 

"But  you  are  out  of  the  road,  Willy,"  said  Edith,  in  a  warning  tone. 
"Remember  we  promised  not  to  leave  the  high  road." 

"Do  you  call  this  leaving  it?"  said  he;  "I  shall  not  lose  sight  of  you  ; 
I  am  only  on  one  side  of  the  hedge  and  j-ou  on  another,  and  I  suppose 
they  both  lead  the  same  way." 

"Yes,  Willy,  but  it  is  not  the  ivay  mamma  told  us  to  go.  0,  come 
back  —  we  sliall  soon  be  there." 

"  I  shall  do  no  such  thing,"  was  the  reply;  "I  am  going  through  the 
plantation,  and  I  will  meet  you  below  the  toll-gate.  Good-bye;"  and 
away  he  ran. 

lie  was  not  content  Avith  going  astray  himself,  but  turning  round, 
beckoned  to  Grace. 

"  Grace,  dear,  I  see  some  cows  coming  along  the  road  ;  you  don't  like 
cows  —  come  with  me  —  this  is  the  safest  way — come." 

Grace  did  not  speak ;  she  was  afraid  of  the  cattle ;  she  was  tired  of  the 
dusty  road,  and  she  was  rca<ly  to  yield. 

"  This  is  a  far  better  wa}-,"  urged  her  brother,  "  and  it  is  not  like  going 
round.  It  is  just  as  straight,  nearly  so  at  least,  as  the  other;  so  come, 
Gracie." 

Edith  had  not  interrupted  him  \cA.  At  length  she  said:  "I  do  not 
know  that  this  road  of  which  you  speak  is  unsafe;  but  I  know  that 
mamma  said,  '  The  high  road  is  the  only  way  yov\  must  take.'  If  anotlicr 
ran  alongside  of  this,  and  I  could  see  it  all  the  time,  I  would  not  take  it, 
because  only  the  way  mamma  tells  us  can  be  right  for  us  to  go." 

Willy  laughed  scornfully.     "You  are  not  always  so  obedient,  Edith." 
"  I  am  not,  and  this  is  wh}-  I  would  be  so  now;  I  never  find  my  own 


182  PORTFOLIO  OF  EKTERTAINMENT 

way  cuds  well;  neither  will  you.  Now,  Gracie,  give  me  your  hand, 
darling,  the  cows  will  not  hurt  us ;  nothing  can  really  hurt  us  if  we  trust 
God  and  obey  him.  I  should  not  be  sure  that  he  would  take  care  of  us 
in  the  wood,  but  I  am  quite  sure  he  will  here." 

Very  fast  beat  the  young  hearts  though,  as  at  this  moment  one  of  the 
cows  began  to  plunge  and  kick,  lash  its  tail,  and  butt  violently  with, 
its  horns,  for  some  cruel  boys  had  been  teasing  it.  At  that  moment, 
however,  a  sturdy  woodman,  who  was  felling  trees  in  the  belt  of  planta- 
tion, came  along,  and  standing  before  the  frightened  children,  protected 
them  until  the  danger  was  over,  when  the}'  again  went  on  their  way  with 
joy.  Tired  they  were,  and  warm  and  fairit  when  the}-  arrived  at  the  gate 
where  Willy  had  promised  to  meet  them  ;  but  Willy  was  not  there. 
They  called  and  waited,  and  then  called  again,  until  a  distant  clock 
striking  twelve,  they  remembered  that  their  grandpapa  would  be  anxious, 
and  with  a  sad  heart  Edith  determined  to  go  on.  They  had  no  further 
accident  or  adventure,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  more  they  arrived  at 
the  gate  of  their  grandpapa's  house.  The  kind,  grey-headed  old  man 
was  there  to  welcome  them  with  a  smile  of  love  and  tenderness ;  and  as 
they  sat  in  his  cool  parlour  and  partook  of  the  simple  repast  he  had 
prepared,  they  felt  quite  repaid.  The  little  white  dresses  had  not  been 
soiled  by  the  way,  and  when  the  dusty  shoes  were  taken  oiF,  they  felt 
nearly  rested.  But  Willy  —  where  was  he  ?  Dinner  time  came,  but  still 
Willy  did  not  appear.  Grandpapa,  much  alarmed,  sent  his  man-servant 
in  the  pony-gig  to  seek  him;  but  four  o'clock  came  and  still  no  Willy. 

At  length,  just  as  their  grandpapa  liad  resolved  to  go  himself  in  quest 
of  him,  the  gig  drove  up  with  poor  Willy  in  it  in  a  sad  plight.  His  little 
coat  was  torn,  his  trousers  dirty,  and  his  face  flushed  and  tearful.  The 
tale  was  soon  told.  He  had  been  tempted  by  some  boys  whom  he  found 
in  the  wood  to  stay  a  little  time  birds'-nesting,  and  he  bad  yielded ;  but 
in  climbing  a  tree  the  bough  had  given  way,  and  the  child,  in  his  fall, 
had  severely  sprained  his  ankle.  It  was  no  time  for  reprimand ;  the 
tears  fell  so  fast,  and  the  tones  were  so  humble,  that  no  one  could  speak 


.  A  N  D    IXST  R  U  CTIO  N.  183 

harshly.  As  ho  \ay  on  the  sofa,  and  Edith  bathed  the  poor  swollen  foot, 
his  self-reproaches  broke  forth. 

"  0,  Edie,  you  were  right ;  I  took  the  road  which  seemed  pleasaiiter 
and  safer  than  yours,  but  it  was  the  wrong  one." 

She  kissed  him,  as  she  said,  "  Do  not  cry,  darling  Willy,  you  will  never 
do  so  again.     It  has  taught  you  a  good  lesson." 

"And  it  may  yet  teach  you  another,  my  little  ones,"  said  grandpapa, 
pressing  his  hand  kindly  over  Grace's  head,  which  lay  on  Willy's  shoulder; 
"your  little  journey  to-day  is  a  picture  of  the  pilgrimage  of  life.  You 
set  ofl"  full  of  spirits  and  hope  on  this  May  morning,  never  thinking  of 
the  toil  and  trouble  of  the  road.  You  had  not  gone  far,  however,  ere 
you  were  weary.  Stones  and  dust,  little  ascents,  and,  finally,  the  fright 
from  the  cattle  discouraged  you.  Then  Willy  left  you.  One  temptation 
led  him  into  another,  and  he  fell  short  of  the  end  at  last.  My  children, 
you  are  sent  into  the  world  on  a  journey.  Your  directions  for  the  road 
are  so  clear  and  plain  that  there  is  no  possibilit}-  of  mistaking  them. 
Just  as  plainly  as  your  mother  told  you  to-day  to  come  to  my  house  by 
the  high  road,  so  God  tells  you  in  his  word  not  to  attempt  to  reach 
heaven  by  any  other  way  than  by  Jesus  Christ.  He  does  not  say,  I  am 
a  way,  or  the  best  way,  or  the  safest  way,  or  the  smoothest  way,  but  I  am 
the  way,  that  is,  the  onlij  way.  Strange  that  we  should  try  others,  as 
Willy  tried  the  wood-path  to-da}'.  The  grass  was  cool  to  his  feet,  he 
thought  the  flowers  looked  tempting  in  the  meadows ;  the  dangers  and 
fatigues  of  the  straight  road  soon  discouraged  him,  and  flattering  himself 
that  he  should  join  them  at  the  end,  he  took  the  bye-path  to  the  town. 
And  your  failure  will  be  as  certain  as  his  if  you  attempt  to  lay  out  fur 
yourselves  any  way  of  salvation  out  of  Christ  or  besides  him.  You  are 
very  young  in  years,  but  young  children  show  wonderful  capacity  for 
drawing  new  maps  and  guide-books  of  the  road  to  heaven,  and  marvel- 
lous willingness  to  study  those  already  planned  by  others,  while  the 
great  book  of  the  road  —  the  Bible  —  they  seldom  read,  and  still  more 
rarely  study.     One  child  takes  the  pleasant  path  of  self-righteousness. 


184 


PORTFOLIO     OF     E  N  T  E  K  T  A  I  X  JI  K  N  T 


If  he  is  not  cross,  or  disobedient,  or  idle,  he  thinks  God  will  he  pleased 
^vitll  him,  and,  as  a  consequence,  will  be  sure  to  welcome  him  to  heaven. 
Another  has  no  idea  of  going  in  that  long  narrow  way.  He  will  stop 
and  pluck  flowers  a  little,  and  enjoy  tbe  pleasures  of  the  world.  He  is 
young,  and  has  time  enough  yet,  he  thinks;  when  he  is  older,  he  may 
take  the  bigb  road  indeed,  but  not  yet.  It  is  dull,  too,  he  thinks ;  so  few 
travel  that  way,  and  his  companions  are  not  there.  But  be  forgets  that 
death  may  come  at  any  turn  in  the  pleasant  path  he  bath  chosen,  for 
every  churchyard  will  tell  sucb  a  child  that  he  is  not  too  young  to  die." 

There  was  a  pause.  The  children  understood  the  lesson,  and  they 
never  forgot  grandpapa's  birthday.  Two  of  them  are  still  going  on  in 
their  pilgrimage,  and  have  long  kept  to  the  high  road.  If  tbey  wander  a 
little,  tbe  Saviour  brings  them  back,  for  he  is  to  them  a  good  and  loving 
shepherd;  and  one  of  them,  even  the  little  Grace,  has  entered  into  rest, 
and  has  proved  the  words  of  Jesus,  that  he  is  not  only  "the  way,"  but 
"the  truth  and  the  life." 


Jiwgust  Innunn  Irniukt. 


ISr  the  24th  of  July,  1698,  Francke  laid  tbe  foundation 
j^^  stone  of  the  new  orpban-house,  on  tbe  ground  at- 
tached to  the  hotel,  and  in  faith  began  to  build. 
-:  The  want  of  money  could  not  dispirit  or  dissuade 
him  from  bis  work,  though  it  gave  him  sometimes 
considerable  trouble  and  anxiety ;  for  he  was  obliged 
to  learn  that,  though  aid  was  promised,  yet  the  time  and  manner  wei'e 
not  specified  in  the  guide-book  for  daily  life,  which  be  made  his  con- 
stant study.     One  passage  in  that  book  was  often  before  him,  "  My  time 


AND     I  X  S  T  i:  U  C  T  I  0  X  .  1 S5 

is  not  yet  come;"  and  another  also  appeared  to  snit  liini  wull,  "Call 
upon  me  in  the  time  of  trouble,  and  I  will  deliver  thee."  Sometimes, 
when  food  must  be  bung-lit  for  a  hundred  people,  or  ^Yhen  on  Saturday 
afternoon  the  workmen  required  to  be  paid,  he  had  not  a  penny  in  the 
house.  Sometimes  j^ewbauer  was  obliged  to  run  about  the  wliole  day, 
to  gather  as  mucli  money  as  was  necessary  to  buy  candles,  that  they 
might  not  be  sitting  in  darkness ;  and  it  was  perhaps  near  the  evening 
before  he  obtained  it.  It  is  better,  however,  to  hear  Francke  tell  in  his 
own  words  what  he  experienced  at  such  times. 

"In  the  month  of  October,  1698,"  he  tells,  "I  was  induced  to  send  a 
poor  widow,  whom  I  knew  to  be  very  pious,  and  also  very  destitute,  a 
gift  of  a  ducat.  She  wrote  to  me  in  reply,  tliat  the  monej'  had  arrived 
at  a  time  when  she  greatly  required  it,  and  she  prayed  that  God  would 
rejiay  me  many  hundred  fold,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Orphan-house.  Shortly 
afterwards,  a  Christian  friend  brought  me  twenty-five  ducats,  and  on  the 
very  same  day,  two  ducats  were  sent  me  from  Sweden.  In  a  few  daj-s, 
twenty-five  ducats  arrived  b^'  the  post  without  the  name  of  the  giver. 
About  the  same  time,  Prince  Louis  of  Wirtemberg  died,  and  left  a 
legacy  to  the  Orphan-house.  On  inquiry,  there  was  found  a  red  silk 
purse,  eontaing  500  ducats,  with  a  card  attached,  stating  that  it  was  fur 
the  Orphan-house  in  Ilalle.  "When  I  saw  the  pile  of  ducats  lying  on  the 
table,  I  thought  of  the  poor  woman's  prayer,  that  the  ducat  might  be 
repaid  many  hundred  fold. 

"When  this  was  spent,  and  the  bills  were  still  coming  in,  I  felt  myself 
in  some  difficulty,  especially  when  one  large  payment  was  pressing,  and 
I  had  nothing  to  meet  it.  I  had  resolved,  so  soon  as  I  should  have 
finished  the  business  on  wliich  I  was  engaged,  to  go  to  my  chamber  to 
beg  the  divine  blessing,  and  just  as  I  had  finished,  and  was  going  to 
engage  in  earnest  prayer,  a  letter  was  put  into  my  hand  by  a  merchant, 
who  said  he  had  received  orders  to  pay  me  a  thousand  dollars  for  the 
benefit  of  the  Orphan-house.  I  thought  of  the  promise,  '  Before  they 
cry,  I  will  answer;  and  while  they  are  speaking,  I  will  hear.'     I  went, 


186  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

however,  to  my  chamber,  and  instead  of  begguig,  I  poured  out  my  whole 
soul  in  praise  and  thanks  to  him  who  doeth  so  wondrously  above  all  that 
we  can  ask  or  think. 

"  In  the  following  harvest  I  was  taking  a  solitary  walk,  and,  looking 
np  to  the  sky  so  bright  and  so  blue,  thought  within  myself,  what  a  pri- 
vilege it  is  to  have  nothing  in  one's  own  keeping,  but  to  know  Ilim  who 
doeth  as  be  will  in  heaven  and  on  earth.  I  felt  the  nearness  of  the  Holy 
One,  and  spread  out  my  case  before  him  with  exceeding  joy,  asking  him 
to  do  with  me  and  for  me  according  to  my  vrants.  I  knew  that  there 
was  no  money  in  the  house,  and  that  accounts  were  to  be  paid  in  the 
evening;  but  felt  happy  in  the  assurance  that  he  who  had  made  the 
'  heaven  and  the  earth,  and  had  spread  out  that  blue  firmament  above, 
knew  as  well  as  I  did  what  was  necessary  to  carry  out  his  own  work,  in 
which  I  was  merely  steward  and  overseer.  On  reaching  home,  my  faith- 
ful helper,  Newbauer,  came  to  ask  if  there  was  any  money  come  —  he 
Avauted  some  for  wages.  I  said  there  was  none  arrived,  but  I  trusted  in 
due  time  to  have  enough.  I  imparted  to  him  the  sweet  hour  that  I  had 
spent  in  meditation,  and  the  joyful  assurance  I  had  of  the  love  of  God. 
As  we  spoke,  a  student  was  announced,  who  wanted  to  speak  with  mo. 
lie  told  me  had  been  commissioned  by  a  friend,  who  wished  to  remain 
unknown,  to  pay  me  thirty  dollars  for  the  Orphan-house.  On  returning 
to  the  overseer  of  the  works,  I  inquired  how  much  he  required,  when  he 
said, '  Thirt}-  dollars.'  I  handed  him  the  money  I  had  just  received,  and 
both  of  us  found  our  faitli  much  strengthened  by  the  circumstance  of 
obtaining  exactly  what  was  necessary. 

"  On  another  occasion  we  had  no  food  in  the  house,  and  I  felt  myself 
peculiarly  earnest  in  pleading, '  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread.'  I  was 
desirous  that  on  this  occasion  we  might  all  see  that  it  was  from  Him. 
In  the  course  of  tlie  day  a  fi-iend  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  brought  me 
four  hundred  dollars.  Now  I  knew  why  the  Lord  had  taught  me  to 
pray  so  earnestly  for  help  '  this  day.'  At  another  time,  all  was  gone, 
and  I  had  no  recourse  but  prayer ;  and  see !  there  came  a  letter  from  a 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  187 

friend,  wlio  lived  six  Imudrod  miles  away,  with  fifty  florins,  Logging  that 
I  would  excuse  the  trouhle  he  wanted  to  give  me  to  divide  this  sum 
among  the  poor. 

"At  another  time,  upwards  of  one  hundred  dollars  were  required  to 
pay  the  workmen,  and  I  knew  of  no  way  of  obtaining  ten.  I  directed 
the  steward  to  come  after  dinner,  and  in  the  meantime  I  should  ask  my 
heavenly  Father  for  the  money.  He  came  after  dinner  as  appointed ; 
and  I  was  obliged  to  bid  him  return  in  the  evening.  In  the  meantime 
a  friend  joined  me,  and  we  united  in  fervent  prayer;  but  while  engaged 
in  that  exercise,  I  felt'  impelled  to  grateful  recollection  of  all  that  God 
had  done  for  me  and  for  others.  Scripture  examples  of  Ishmael  in  the 
wilderness,  of  Moses  at  the  Red  Sea,  of  David  when  pursued  by  Saul, 
of  Elisha  in  Samaria,  of  Elijah  among  the  prophets  of  Baal,  stood 
vividly  before  my  mind,  with  the  promise  'Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yester- 
day, and  to-day,  and  for  ever'  —  till  I  forgot  to  ask  deliverance  from 
present  need,  but  sought  much  rather  to  pour  out  my  feelings  of  grati- 
tude for  the  goodness  of  God.  When  we  had  ended  our  prayer,  and 
the  friend  was  taking  his  leave,  I  accompanied  him  to  the  door,  where 
I  found  on  the  one  side  the  steward  coming  for  his  money,  and  on  the 
other  side  a  messenger  with  a  bag  containing  one  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  for  the  benefit  of  the  Orphan-house. 

"  The  overseer  of  the  works  came  to  me  one  morning  early,  asking 
for  money,  and  I  gave  him  what  I  had.  It  was  six  dollars.  'Ah  yes,' 
said  the  overseer,  'if  it  were  six  times  so  much,  it  would  just  serve.' 
We  comforted  each  other  with  the  promise  of  Ilim  in  whose  work  we 
were  engaged,  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  there  came  in  so  much  that 
the  thirty-six  dollars  were  paid.  When  the  wants  had  at  one  time 
accumulated,  and  the  fountains  seemed  to  dry  up,  my  assistants  were 
beginning  to  reason  among  themselves  as  if  God  had  forgotten  to  be 
gracious.  One  came  to  tell  me  that  such  doubts  were  filling  the  minds 
of  those  who  had  at  other  times  been  very  steady,  and,  while  he  was 
speaking,  a  bill  of  exchange  for  five  thousand  dolhirs  was  [mt  into  my 


188  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTEKTAIXMENT 

hands.  It  was  the  sorest  trial  I  had  met  with,  but  it  was  also  tlio  largest 
sum  I  ever  received  at  once." 

These  examples  are  selected  from  a  paper  which  he  afterwai'ds  wrote 
as  a  testimony  of  the  goodness  of  God,  for  the  strengthening  of  the 
faith  of  coming  generations.  Should  such  examples  appear  to  any  one 
ridiculous,  it  is  a  clear  evidence  that  he  has  never  tried  such  experiments. 
Should  they  appear  unphilosophical,  it  can  only  be  because  the  basis  of 
all  philosophy,  and  of  all  wisdom,  is  forgotten ;  for  all  true  philosophy 
is  based  on  the  fear  of  God,  and  the  knowledge  of  his  revealed  charac- 
ter. Should  any  one  be  tempted  to  presumption  by  such  examples,  let 
him  remember  that,  to  obtain  such  signal  help  from  God,  it  is  neces- 
sary —  '^ 

Ist.  To  be  engaged  in  a  work  agreeable  to  the  divine  will 

2nd.  To  have  the  divine  glory  as  the  chief  aim. 

3rd.  To  live  a  holy  life. 

4th.   To  have  made  use  of  all  other  means  put  ivithin  reach. 

It  was  little  wonder  that  the  hearts  of  rich  and  poor,  of  high  and  low, 
were  turned  to  support  this  work;  for  it  was  undertaken  S0I0I3'  with  an 
e^-e  to  the  divine  glory,  and  was  carried  on  in  faith  and  prayer.  Every 
morning  the  workmen  began  their  task  with  united  prayer.  At  the  end 
of  the  week,  when  they  received  their  wages,  it  was  with  prayer  and  an 
edifying  address  that  their  week's  work  was  closed.  Tiiat  gave  the  men 
courage  and  steadiness;  and  in  July,  1699,  the  principal  wing  was 
under  roof.  But  poor  Franeke  had  no  rest.  For,  from  the  day 
that  he  had  resolved,  on  a  capital  of  seven  florins,  to  found  a  ragged- 
school,  there  flocked  to  him,  from  far  and  near,  those  who  wanted  to  be 
admitted,  and  he  had  scarcely  finished  a  building  till  it  was  found  to  be 
too  small  to  accommodate  those  who  in  the  meantime  had  sought 
admission. 

lie  was  never  much  concerned  about  the  money,  for  he  knew  that,  if 
he  had  obtained  the  inward  assurance  that  the  work  was  good,  the  means 
would  he  obtained  at  the  proper  time.     At  one  period  he  was  gathering 


AXD    IXSTRCCTION.  189 

money  for  a  pa3-ment  wbleli  would  soon  fall  due,  and  liad  the  requisite 
sura,  to  the  amount  of  four  thousand  dollars,  brought  together.  One 
morning  a  ladder  was  found  applied  to  a  window  of  the  room  where  the 
money  was  kept,  and  marks  were  evident  of  an  attempt  to  break  in. 
What  had  driven  the  thief  away  no  one  knew.  Francke  thought,  how- 
ever, rather  than  that  thieves  should  carry  the  money  away,  he  would 
build  a  house  for  the  normal  schools.  A  thousand  dollars,  and  another 
thousand,  were  spent  on  the  building,  and  the  time  was  approaching 
when  the  four  thousand  must  be  paid.  The  da^'  came,  and  Francke  had 
not  the  monej\  lie  went  to  the  university,  read  his  lecture  as  usual, 
returned,  and  found  many  letters  on  the  table.  The  first  one  which  he 
opened  ran  as  follows :  —  "  My  deceased  sister  has  left  a  legacy  of  eight 
thousand  dollars  for  tlie  Orphan-house  in  Ilalle,  and,  as  it  is  the  first  iteni 
of  the  will,  I  should  like  also  to  pay  it  first."  The  money  was  now  paid, 
and  Francke  had  enough  to  carry  on  his  building.  This  was  the  normal 
school,  built  in  1711. 

Francke  had  a  small  medicine  chest,  out  of  which  he  supplied  medi- 
cine to  the  poor  gratuitously.  Once  on  visiting  a  patient,  the  sick  man 
gave  him  a  large  number  of  receipts,  for  cures  of  various  diseases,  and 
assui'ed  him  be  would  find  them  efiicacious.  The  receipts  were  intrusted 
to  the  physician  of  the  Orphan-house,  C.  F.  Richter,  a  worthy  man,  who 
had  given  his  whole  property  to  the  institution.  •  After  some  fruitless 
attempts,  he  at  last  succeeded,  and  the  cures  which  wei'e  effected  by  these 
medicines  were  almost  beyond  belief.  The  Apothecary's  Hall  thus 
became  a  place  of  great  importance. 

In  his  own  day,  he  saw  the  different  branches  of  the  institution  come 
to  a  state  of  great  efficiency.  At  his  death,  there  were  134  orphan  child- 
ren trained  and  boarded  under  the  care  of  ten  teachei's  and  caretakers,  as 
they  were  termed ;  2207  boys  and  girls,  young  men  and  young  women, 
were  under  the  care  of  175  teachers;  and  many  of  these,  too,  were  gra- 
tuitously instructed  in  all  the  necessary  branches  of  a  suitable  education. 
212  poor  scholars,  and  255  students  were  daily  fed.     The  town  and  the 


190  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

rising  universitj-  were,  by  sueli  eiTjrts,  groatly  improved,  and  the  amount 
of  money  put  in  circulation  ke[)t  tiie  labouring  population  in  employ- 
ment and  bread. 

Many  and  bitter  were  the  calumnies  and  persecutions  which  Francke 
was  required  to  bear,  but  he  regarded  them  all  as  necessary  to  keep  hina 
humble  and  watchful.  His  own  spirit  extended  to,  and  took  possession 
of,  all  his  assistants.  "When  Frederick  William  I.,  king  of  Prussia,  once 
asked  Elers,  the  founder  of  the  library  and  publishing  department  of  the 
institution,  how  much  ho  had  for  his  great  toil  and  labour,  he  answered 
that  he  had  his  one  suit  of  clothes  and  a  pocket  Bible.  More  he  had 
not,  and  did  not  wish.  "Now,"  said  the  king,  laying  his  hand  on 
Francke's  shoulder,  "  now  I  understand  how  A'OU  could  do  all  this. 
Such  helpers  I  cannot  find." 

The  great  Bible  Society  was  founded  by  Caunstcin,  and  when  he  died, 
Francke  carried  on  the  work  alone.  Some  notion  of  the  amount  of 
good  done  by  this  society  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact,  tliat,  indepen- 
dent of  the  New  Testaments  and  Psalms,  a  Bible  in  our  possession,  of 
the  date  of  1840,  is  marked  as  the  276th  edition.  If  each  edition  were 
reckoned  at  but  5000  or  GOOO,  what  a  work  has  there  been  done ! 

We  must  not  forget,  however,  that  Francke  was  professor,  and  as  such 
his  great  aim  was  to  furnish  his  students  with  something  substantial  to 
take  with  them  and  lean  on  during  life.  His  desire,  like  that  of  Spener, 
was  to  bring  religion  into  daily  use,  and  develope  its  power  on  the  heart 
and  character.  He  laboured  hard  to  promote  a  living  faith  at  home,  but 
he  did  not  forget  the  heathen.  He  sent  many  of  his  students  to  the 
mission  college  founded  by  the  king  of  Denmark,  and  kept  up  a  corres- 
pondence with  them  in  foreign  lands. 

He  made  frequent  journeys ;  and  it  would  be  easy  to  fill  manj'  a  page 
with  the  story  of  the  calumnies  which  were  often  sent  before  him,  and 
the  manner  in  which  he  by  his  faithfulness  and  gentle  self-denial  over- 
came them  all. 

He  had  boon  a  weakly  child,   and  had  never  enjoyed  much  good 


A  \  D     I  N  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  X .  191 

health;  still  his  constitution  held  out  till  his  64th  year.  In  the  summer 
of  1727  he  began  his  usual  course  of  lectures,  but  delivered  onl}'  the 
first,  and  closed  it  with  an  earnest,  full-toned  adieu :  "  Go  then,  my 
friends,  and  the  blessing  of  God  rest  on  you  for  ever  and  ever."  On  the 
24th  of  May  he  was  carried  out  to  the  garden  of  the  Orphan-house,  and 
there  he  took  leave  of  the  scene  of  his  toil  in  a  prayer  which  lasted  an 
hour.  On  the  8th  of  June  he  passed  away  from  the  turmoil  of  life,  and 
entered  into  his  rest.  "I  have  waited  for  thy  salvation,  0  God,"  were 
the  words  whicli  he  oft  repeated  on  his  death-bed,  and  he  passed  away 
without  a  struggle. 

A  hundred  years  later,  a  marble  monument  was  built,  and  on  it  was 
inscribed,  in  German  — 

August  ITermann  Francke. 
He  trusted  in  God, 


^n  Innicnt  (\-am  ^lc:il  fiff. 

CLERGTMAJSr  in  Ireland  was  preaching  some  few 
^J\  years  ago  to  his  ordinary  Sunday  congregation  upon 

0    ''v^^        *''^  imi)Ortant  text,   "  Search  the  Sci-iptures."      In 
tj^^^f^^"^'^     the  course  of  his  sermon,  while  admonishine:  his 
^j'^'/i'^i^^^t,  hearers  of  the  guilt  and  danger  of  neglecting  the 
//^ji>'      ^  Ivv'/    '^  word  of  God,  he  quoted  a  passage  of  a  divine,  in 
which  he  speaks  of  the  Bible  as  sometimes  having 
enough  dust  upon  its  cover  to  admit  of  the  brief  but  appalling  scriptu- 
ral expression,  "damnation,"*  being  written  legibly  thereon.     A  vonu"- 

*  The  passage  occiutpiI,  we  believe,  in  a  sermon  of  that  unconi promising  pulpit  orator, 
John  Wesley.  —  Editok. 


102  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  >,' T  E  E  T  A  I  X  M  E  X  T 

lad}-,  a  member  of  tlie  congregation,  was  struck  by  tbe  peculiar  force  of 
tlie  expression  used,  and  spoke  of  it  upon  ber  return  bome.  Her  bro- 
tbcr,  a  3'oung  man  wbo  bad  on  tbat  day  causelessly  absented  bimself — 
as  young  men  are  too  often  apt  to  do — from  the  public  service  of  the 
sanctuary,  overbeard  ber,  and  it  pleased  God  tbat  tbe  words  —  or  ratber 
the  startling  tliought  which  they  suggested  —  should  go  bome  like  an 
arrow  to  bis  heart.  lie  hurriedly  withdrew  to  bis  chamber,  took  down 
bis  Bible  from  a  shelf,  and  looked  at  it;  there  was  dust  upon  the  cover. 
With  trembling  finger  be  traced,  half  unconsciously,  tbe  appalling 
phrase  which  tbe  preacher  bad  used.  There  it  stood,  distinctly  legible. 
He  read  it  —  be  repeated  it  —  be  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears;  and  falling 
upon  bis  knees,  with  streaming  eyes  and  heaving  breast,  be  besought 
the  God  of  whom  that  neglected  Bible  testifies,  tbat  he  would  merci- 
fully pardon  bis  grievous  sin,  and  give  him  grace  to  neglect  it  no  longer. 
The  seeds  of  consumption,  unknown  to  bimself  and  unsuspected  by  his 
relatives,  were  lurking  in  that  young  man's  constitution  at  tbe  time, 
destined  to  be  speedily  and  fatally  developed.  And  during  the  weary 
days  and  sleepless  nights  which  were  ere  long  aj^pointed  him,  tbat  here- 
tofore neglected  Bible  was  his  solace  and  bis  sta^- ;  and  when  death  came, 
it  found  liim  bearing  triumphant  testimony  to  tbe  blessed  fact,  that  tbe 
God  whom  it  reveals  was  bis  God,  and  tbe  salvation  which  it  promises 
his  salvation  —  his  joy  and  bis  portion  for  ever! 

Many  and  important  are  the  lessons  suggested  by  this  incident,  and  its 
inestimably  blessed  result.  It  furnishes,  in  tbe  first  place,  a  case  in 
point  of  what  we  believe  will  be  found  to  hold  good  in  almost  evei'y 
instance,  namely,  tbat  the  neglecter  of  the  public  worship  of  God  upon 
tbe  Sabbath  is  also,  as  a  matter  of  course,  a  neglecter  of  God's  holy 
word  at  home.  The  spirit  which  prompts  tbe  former  will  not  fail  to 
effect  the  latter  also.  And  thus  does  the  transgressor  array  against  him- 
self a  twofold  testimony,  which  will  one  day  lift  its  condemning  voice 
with  a  power  which  be  little  recks  of,  and  leave  him  altogether  defence- 
less ;  inasmuch  as  tbe  excuse  (in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  a  vain  one)  with 


AND     INSTRUCTION.  193 

uliieh  he  (leludcs  liimsclf  with  regard  to  the  one  oifenee,  will  be  fouiKl 
iueapable  of  being-  even  pleaded  tor  the  otlier  ;  the  reason  wliy  (if  indeed 
there  be  an^-  reason  wliy),  he  did  not  join  in  tlio  worship  of  Ciod  abroad 
being,  at  all  events,  no  reason  whatsoever  why  he  should  not  have  read 
the  word  of  God  at  homo.  lie  who  is  reahy,  by  an  unavoidable  neces- 
sity, constrained,  as  will  sometimes  happen,  to  spend  his  Sabbath  at 
home,  will  feel  on  that  very  account  the  more  desirous  of  making  his 
Bible  tlie  companion  of  his  solitude.  He  who,  on  the  other  hand, 
gladly  avails  himself  of  some  imaginary  or  iusutficieut  excuse  for  absent- 
ing himself  from  the  public  means  of  grace,  will  either  find  one  ready 
to  hand,  or  deem  that  none  is  ucedfLil  for,  in  hke  manner,  dispensing 
\\ith  the  in'ivate. 

Again,  we  have  here  strikingU-  brought  before  us  the  vast  importance 
of  the  Sabbatli's  sermon  being  made  the  subject  of  subsequent  remark 
and  conversation  in  the  domestic  circle.  Thus  the  seed  sown  will  bo  the 
better  preserved  against  that  speedy  snatching  away  out  of  the  heart, 
which  our  blessed  Redeemer  warns  us  against  in  the  parable  of  the 
sower,  as  one  of  the  chief  liindrancos  to  its  bringing  forth  fruit.  Thus, 
too,  will  those  who  have  heard  the  sermon  preached  be  refreshed  in 
their  recollection  of  it;  and  the  errors  or  misconceptions  which  some  of 
them  may  very  possiblj'  entertain  concerning  it  will  be  removed.  While, 
as  in  the  case  before  us,  to  one  or  more  members  of  the  family  who  have 
not  heard  it  previously,  it  may,  iiy  the  wonder-working  agency  of  God's 
Hilly  S[iii'it,  become,  as  it  were,  second-hand,  a  source  of  greater  bless- 
ing tlian  to  those  who  have  received  it  from  the  preachei-'s  hps. 

Further,  we  have  here  a  marvellous  instance  of  the  indirect,  unex- 
pected, and  what,  huniauly  speaking,  we  should  call  fai'-fctched  methods 
wliereliy  the  Most  High  is  sometimes  }ileased  to  arrest  the  sinner  in  liis 
downward  progress  to  destruction,  and  to  turn  hinr  "from  darkness  to 
light;"  and  all  tliis  in  order,  it  would  seem,  to  put  it  beyond  question 
that  "the  excellency  of  the  power,"  in  every  instance  of  a  sinner's  con- 
version, "is  of  God,"  and  not  of  man.  We  naturally  would  expect  that 
13 


194  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

a  sermon,  if  blessed  at  all  to  tlio  turning  of  a  sinner  from  the  error  of 
his  ways,  would  be  so  blessed  to  one  or  more  of  those  who  lieai-d  it 
preached.  That  an  absent  member  of  the  congregation  should  be  the 
one  especially  and  savingly  benefited  by  it,  is  something  which  it  would 
scarcely  enter  into  our  minds  to  conceive.  If  questioned,  moreover,  as 
to  the  particular  portion  of  a  sermon  which  we  should  consider  likely, 
with  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  upon  it,  to  be  effectual  to  the  wakening  of 
a  slumbering  soul,  we  should  point,  in  all  probability,  to  some  clear 
statement  of  doctrine,  or  some  forcible  or  stirring  appeal  to  conscience 
which  it  might  contain.  We  should  scarcely  think  of  indicating  a  single 
brief  expression,  however  striking  or  emphatic  —  and  that,  too,  given  as 
a  quotation  from  another  preacher,  long  since  departed  —  as  the  arrow 
which  the  Spirit  would  make  choice  of  wherewith  to  wound,  in  order 
that  he  might  for  ever  heal,  a  world-loving  and  a  God-despising  heart. 
Little  did  the  preacher,  upon  that  occasion,  imagine,  as  he  quoted  that 
(expression  —  still  less,,  if  possible,  did  she  imagine  who  afterwards 
repeated  it  —  that  it  was  as  a  cord  let  down  from  heaven  to  draw  up  a 
-iiiful  soul  —  that  it  should  prove  a  "word  of  life"  to  one  about  to  go 
down  ere  long  into  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death ! 

In  all  this  we  are  practically  taught  that  the  ways  of  Ilini  with  whom 
we  have  to  do  are  not  "as  our  ways,"  nor  are  "his  thoughts  as  our 
tlioughts ;"  that  all  agencies  and  instrumentalities  are  alike  to  him  to 
work  therewith  according  to  the  good  pleasure  of  his  will — ^  and  that, 
therefore,  we  should  earnestly,  unremittingly,  pra3'erfully,  make  use  of 
all,  both  for  ourselves  and  others,  and  look  to  and  trust  in  him  to  bless 
them  to  the  saving  of  souls,  and  the  glorifying  of  his  holy  name. 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  105 


^lic  (Thristian  lllaff. 

On   to  the  g(i:il,  friends,  on  ! 

Glory  awaits  you  there; 
Crowns  for  the  victors'   brow, 

Robes  that  the    coni|iierors  wear; 
Thrones  for  the  sons  of  might, 

Harps  for  the  sons  of  song, 
Welcome  from   heaven's  own   King, 

Greetings  from  heaven's  bright  thronj 

On  !    for  the  hour  has  come 

When  ye  the  race  must  run, 
Or  sec  life's  day  decline, 

With  life's  great  work  undone. 
ILirk  !    fur  the  Master  calls, 

And  o'er  your  path  has  shone 
The  sunlight  of   his  smile; 

On  to  the  goal  then,  on  ! 

I'ut  off   each  cumbrous  weight. 

Renounce  each  darling  sin. 
He  must  bo  free  as  air 

Who  yonder  wreath  would  win. 
With  patience  gird  the  soul. 

Maintain  the  strife  begun; 
Be  firm  unto  the  end; 

On  to  the  goal,  friends,  on ! 

Though  loiterers  in  the  course 

,    Look  round  you  —  myriads  stand 

Enrobed  in  glorious  light, 

Earth's  star-crowncJ  conqueror  band. 


196 


PORTFOLIO     OF    ENTERTAINMENT 

They  point  you  to  tlie  prize, 

By  true  heiirts  surely  ■won ; 
Tliey  urjjo  you  to  advauee  ; 

On  to  the  goal,   then,  ou  ! 

Li !    Christ  awaits  you  tliere, 

lie  who  the  cup  of  shame 
Drank,   and  the  cross'   pangs 

Endured,  to  win  a  name, 
lie  waits  to  bind   the  crown, 

When  life's  short  race  is  run, 
Round  every  victor's  brow ; 

On  to  the  goal,  friends,  on  ! 


(L 1]  r  i  s  t  i  ii  n  i  t  IT  in  t  Ir  c  J}a\ix  of  5  ;in  g  c  r . 


Vlm^^E  '^^  P^ev.  Dr.  Catlcr,  of  Brooklyn,  New  York,  with 
^^^^^ '  **^ '^^  Mrs.  Cutler,  spent  several  months  in  England,  during 
the  summer  of  1843,  on  a  visit  for  his  health.  On 
their  voyage  homeward,  they  were  exposed  to  severe 
tempests;  hnt,  at  length,  after  many  sufferings,  the 
vessel,  the  "Sheffield,"  of  Liverpool,  arrived  within 
sight  of  land,  and  the  passengers  expected  speedily  to  reach  their  homes, 
■when  it  struck,  with  one  hundred  and  thirty  persons  on  board,  upon  a 
shoal  amidst  furious  breakers;  and,  during  eleven  hours,  death  seemed 
impending  without  any  hope  of  escape.  The  water  was  rapidh*  risiug ; 
the  ship  was  filling,  and  was  gradually  settling  in  the  sea  and  sand  ;  and 
the  passengers  were  crowded  together,  driven  at  first  from  the  cabins, 
and,  at  length,  retreating  to  the  round-house  and  deck;  and  seeing  the 


A  N  D     I  X  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  107 

sea  eveiy  moment  gaining  upon  tliem.  The  boats  would  not  hold  half 
the  i^ersons  on  board;  nov  were  they  launched,  as  the  captain,  whisper- 
ing, told  Dr.  Cutler  that  the  rush  of  the  mass  of  the  steerage  passengers 
would  create  dreadful  confusion,  and  prohahlj-  cause  all  of  them  to  be 
swamped.  A  steamboat  was  in  search  of  them,  but  could  not  see  them. 
Xight  came  on :  the  vessel  was  beating  fearfully ;  the  blue  lights  and 
signal  rockets  were  expended,  all  but  one,  and  that  one,  providentially, 
was  seen  by  the  people  in  the  steamer,  who,  at  great  risk  to  themselves, 
pressed  forward  and  brought  deliverance,  so  that  not  one  person 
perished. 

Events  of  this  nature,  alas  !  are  numerous,  and  oftentimes  most  awful ; 
but  the  circumstances  which  occurred  in  this  case,  during  the  solemn 
suspense  between  life  and  death,  are  so  remarkable,  that  doubtless  every 
reader  will  feel  interested  in  the  account  of  them,  as  related  in  a  letter 
by  Dr.  Cutler. 

The  captain  appears  to  have  been  a  devoutly'  religious  man,  as  well  as 
an  able  officer.  He  had  public  worship  twice  on  Sundays,  and  daily 
morning  and  evening  prayer.  The  following  is,  in  substance,  Dr. 
Cutler's  account  of  the  occurrence  after  the  ship  struck:  — 

"  I  was  on  deck  when  the  ship  struck :  I  inimediately  went  down  to 
my  wife  to  afford  her  consolation.  All  the  cabin  passengers  came  in  a 
body  into  the  ladies'  cabin  :  and  one  of  them  called  for  prayer  to  Almighty 
God.  The  ship  was  then  striking  with  great  violence,  and  threatening 
almost  instant  destruction.  Kneeling  round  the  table  we  poured  out  our 
hearts  to  God.  When  this  praj-er  was  offered,  another  was  put  up,  and 
another.  By  this  time  the  minds  of  all  seemed  more  calm ;  we  sat  down, 
and  some  endeavoured  to  encourage  others  with  the  hope  of  being 
rescued  from  the  wreck;  but  most  of  the  passengers  were  silent,  revolv- 
ing over  the  events  which  in  the  short  space  of  an  liour  had  taken  place. 
Prayer  was  soon  again  called  for,  by  some  of  the  passengers,  and  it  M'as 
offered,  and  with  a  fervonc}',  and  with  responses  from  many  present, 
which  it  would  be  well  to  continue  at  all  times.     An  hour  had  now 


198  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

elapsed.  It  was  proposed,  by  our  commander,  that  we  should  take  some 
refreshment ;  this  at  first  was  declined  —  many  exclaiming  that  they  had 
no  appetite  for  food.  Some  joints  of  meat  were  placed  upon  the  table ; 
but  none,  I  think,  partook  of  them,  the  agitation  of  the  ship  requiring  all 
our  attention  in  order  to  keep  our  seats.  We  then  arranged  ourselves, 
the  ladies  on  the  sofas,  and  the  gentlemen  on  the  floor,  and  remained 
like  persons  awaiting  the  summons  to  enter  the  eternal  world.  It  should 
be  reiparked  that,  after  the  first  mental  shock  was  past,  a  great  degree 
of  calmness  was  acquired  b}-  all  in  the  cabin,  and  soon  by  all  in  the  ship. 
Great  pains  had  been  taken,  from  the  commencement  of  the  voyage,  to 
furnish  every  j^erson  who  was  destitute  with  a  Bible ;  and  every  copy  of 
a  grant  from  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  in  London,  brought 
on  board  by  the  writer,  was  given  away :  many  tracts  were  also  given 
and  distributed  throughout  the  ship.  Divine  service  had  been  performed 
regularl}'  in  the  cabin  and  in  the  steerage,  the  captain  himself  offering 
prayers. 

"  There  were  among  the  passengers  many  forms  of  religious  profes- 
sion ;  there  were  Episcopalians,  Presbyterians,  Baptists,  and  Methodists : 
but  from  first  to  last,  not  a  note  of  controversy  had  been  hoard;  and  I 
verily  believe  that  this  absence  of  contentions,  this  unit}',  peace,  and 
concord,  had  great  weight  with  careless  men,  in  inducing  a  belief  in  the 
truth  of  that  religion,  which,  under  some  form  or  other,  all  of  us  main- 
tained. What  a  delightful  prayer  was  that  of  our  Saviour  — '  That  they 
all  may  be  one :  that  the  world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me.'  To 
tiiose  two  causes  I  am  inclined  to  attribute  the  comparative  tranquillity 
which,  for  ten  hours  out  of  twelve,  was  visible. 

"  But,  0 !  who  can  reveal  what  was  working  under  this  visible  com- 
posure ?  Who  can  describe  the  processes  of  thought  which  were  resorted 
to  in  order  to  accommodate  the  soul  to  existing  circumstances  ?  Much 
was  perceptible  in  the  expression  of  the  countenance,  and  in  the  tone  of 
the  voice ;  and  the  results  of  spiritual  and  intellectual  habits  long  formed 
■ — under  the  guiding  hand  of  the  Holy  Spirit — were  not  illegible.   From 


A  N  D    I  N  S  T  II  U  C  T  I  0  N .  199 

■U'Lat  sprang  tliat  al)ilit\-  to  seize  upon  the  consolations  of  ivlig-ion,  and 
to  impart  tlrera  to  otliers,  even  while  tlie  ver}-  flesh  was  tremhling  on  the 
bones?  Whence  sprang  that  feinalo  fortitude  which  seemed  hardly  to 
desire  the  sj-mpathy  which  was  uttered  or  evinced?  The  previous  life, 
the  avowed  principles  and  plain  practice,  now  brought  forth,  its  proper 
harvest.  A  fixed  reliance  on  God  as  a  Saviour  in  Christ,  imparted  by 
the  Holy  Spirit,  and  long  cherished,  now  sustained  many  a  trenililing 
lieart.  I  saw  a  gentlem.an  return  to  the  ladies'  cabin,  after  all  wore 
driven  out  of  it  by  the  water,  to  recover  some  articles  of  clothing  for  the 
servant  of  another  passenger,  who  in  the  hurry  had  nothing  on  her  liead. 
And,  at  the  last  moment  of  agony,  when  the  captain  came  to  take  a 
lady  in  his  arms  to  carry  her  on  the  deck,  I  saw  licr  insist  upon  his  taking 
another  lady,  who,  although  unattended  by  any  I'elative,  was  entitled  to 
every  respect.  Indeed,  it  required  sufferings  like  these  to  touch  the 
deepest  springs  in  the  bosom  of  refined  and  cultivated  minds. 

"During  the  night  our  excellent  commander  urged  us  to  take  some 
refreshment.  Bread,  an<l  wine  and  water,  were  handed  round  twice  or 
three  times  at  intervals ;  and,  previous  to  our  removal  to  the  upper  deck, 
in  order  to  prepare  us  all,  especially  the  ladies,  for  the  exposure,  tlie 
captain  came  down  and  recommended  further  refreshment  to  us:  'and 
then,'  said  he,  turning  to  me,  'and  then,  sir,  let  us  have  prayers.' 

"After  partaking  of  this,  as  we  supposed,  our  last  meal,  the  4Cth,  the 
130th,  and  the  107th  Psalms,  and  the  27th  chapter  of  the  Acts,  were 
read :  a  hymn  was  sung,  and  praj-ers  viere  offered.  It  will  not  appear 
strange  to  Christian  minds,  that,  after  this,  even  cheerfulness  was  in  some 
measure  acquired.  It  was  now  near  midnight ;  previous  to  this,  however, 
while  the  moments  were  slowly  departing,  with  a  leaden  step,  one  of  the 
clergymen  present  selected  from  the  Bible  a  text,  and  delivered  a  short 
but  appropriate  discourse,  mingling  the  most  pointed  and  personal  appli- 
cation to  his  hearers,  and  especially  to  all  who  had  not  as  yet  publicly 
decided  to  be  on  the  Lord's  side.  The  text  was,  'As  Moses  lifted  up  the 
serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  Son  of  man  he  lifted  up:  that 


200  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

■wliosoever  bolievetli  iu  liim  slioukl  not  perisli,  but  have  eternal  life.' 
Jolm  iii.  14. 

"It  was  now  drawing  towards  midnight,  and  we  had  all  been  driven 
from  below  to  the  upper  deck ;  we  sat  in  a  dense  mass  looking  at  each 
other,  and  at  death,  which,  as  it  seemed,  was  staring  ns  in  the  face.  Our 
captain  was  standinghalf  way  down  the  companion  ladder,  that  he  might 
couvei-se  with  one  and  another,  whose  sorrows  found  vent  in  words. 

"It  was  about  this  time  that  the  captain  invited  the  writer  to  go  out 
with  him  and  see  the  beauty  of  the  night,  and  such  a  scene  of  sublimity 
and  desolation  I  never  beheld.  The  ship,  stripped  of  its  masts,  lay 
weltering  in  the  sea  and  in  the  sand,  and  appeared  like  the  top  of  a  long 
black  tomb.  On  our  right  —  the  niglit  had  cleared  and  the  moon  was 
bright  —  appeared  the  shore  of  Long  Island,  about  eight  miles  distant,  iu 
front,  that  of  Staten  Island:  and  here  we  were,  in  solitary  possession  of 
an  immense  shoal,  covered  with  waves  iu  which  a  boat  could  nc^t  live, 
and  with  no  appearance  of  help.  The  moon  was  indeed  bright ;  l)ut  it 
seemed  only  a  torch  to  light  us  to  the  grave.  Lighthouses  were  sparkling 
at  difterent  points;  the  heavens  were  glittering  over  our  heads  ;  but  the 
cold  wind  compelled  ns  to  retire  to  the  round-house  for  shelter,  and  for 
fellowship  in  affliction.  It  was  now  that  the  writer  gave  up  all  hope  of 
life  :  and  taking  his  scat  beside  one  from  whom  he  did  not  expect  to  be 
separated  for  a  moment,  even  in  death  (0,  what  a  bond  is  Christian  aifec- 
tion  between  man  and  wife !)  he  endeavoured  to  reconcile  himself  and 
others  to  the  will  of  God. 

"  The  first  hour  on  the  wreck  was  one  of  excitement,  agitation,  lamen- 
tation, and  visible  and  audible  sufl'ering.  The  last  hour  was  one  of  silent 
and  heart-rending,  but  smothered  agony;  all  apparently  had  made  up 
their  minds,  and  had  acquired  fortitude;  perhaps,  from  difterent  sources; 
all  were  subdued,  aftectionate,  and  respectful  to  each  other.  Social 
prayer,  which  had  been  resorted  to  again  and  again  below  deck,  seemed 
now  to  be  a  dispensation  which  had  passed  away,  and  had  given  place  to 


AND    I  N  ri  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  jr .  201 

that  iiidiviJiuil  application  to  the  Saviour  of  souls  wliicli  immediately 
precedes  death.     Every  soul  seemed  wrapped  in  its  own  meditation. 

"  Our  watches  now  told  us  that  midnight  was  past.  The  tide,  whicli 
the  captain  had  said  would  go  down  and  leave  the  ship  dry  in  the  cal)iu, 
by  the  almanac,  bad  been  falling  for  two  hours,  or  more,  outside  the  ship, 
but  the  water  continued  to  rise  within.  Alas  !  to  some  of  us  that  seemed 
a  tide,  which,  so  far  as  we  were  concerned,  would  never  go  down.  One 
gentleman,  observing  bis  watch  to  have  run  down,  took  his  key  to  wind 
it  up,  but  suddenly  stopped,  and  said,  'I  shall  have  no  further  use  for 
time,'  and  replaced  it  in  bis  pocket  in  its  silent  and  death-like  sleep. 

"It  was  about  this  time  that  a  steerage  passenger,  on  the  deck,  gave 
notice  that  an  olyect  in  the  distance  appeared  to  be  approaching.  There 
was  a  rush  to  that  side  of  the  ship,  but  nothing  could  be  seen.  The 
officers  of  the  ship  looked,  but  gave  no  encouragement.  Shortly,  this 
person  again  made  the  same  report;  all  eyes  were  again  employed,  but 
in  vain.  A  third  exclamation  was  uttered ;  tlie  captain  placed  himself 
where  the  best  sight  could  be  obtained,  and,  after  looking  through  1^I^^ 
glass,  expressed  hope,  and  then  contidence.  A  few  sparks  were  emitted 
from  the  dark  mass,  and  a  shout  pealed  from  the  deck,  '  A  steamer  baa 
arrived  !'  "Who  can  tell  what  was  felt  at  this  moment?  God  grant  that 
none  of  the  readers  of  this  may  ever  know  the  transition  which  was  then 
experienced ! 

"  Parents  and  children  embraced ;  husbands  and  wives,  nay,  strangers 
were  seen  clasping  eacb  other,  and  expressing  and  uttering  their  awful 
joy.  A  young  man  burst  into  the  centre  of  the  crowd,  and  said  to  the 
writer,  'Now  let  us  praise  God:'  be  arose  and  repeated  the  doxologv, 
'Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow,'  and  then  arose  a  liynin  of 
praise  from  more  than  one  hundred  voices  on  that  dark  deck,  accom- 
panied by  the  deep  bass  of  the  surrounding  billows,  which  bore  upwards 
the  gushing  emotions  of  our  hearts,  and  rendered  to  Ilim,  to  whom  it  was 
due,  the  whole  praise  of  our  deliverance.  In  six  hours  afterwards  we 
were  at  home.     '  Oh  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness, 


202  PORTFOLIO     OF     ENTERTAINMENT 

and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  tlie  children  of  men  !  Let  them  exalt  hira 
also  in  the  congregation  of  the  people,  and  praise  him  in  the  assemhly  of 
tlie  elders.'     Psa.  cvii.  8,  32. 

"No  blame  attached  to  the  captain,  who  had  taken  a  pilot  on  hoard, 
and  acted  throughout  the  trj-ing  scene  in  the  most  firm,  judicious,  and 
exemplary  manner.  In  acknowledging  the  gift  of  a  family  Bible,  pre- 
sented to  him  by  several  of  the  passengers  after  their  landing,  in  testi- 
mony of  their  gratitude,  he  says :  '  This  holy  book,  as  it  is  the  most 
appropriate  testimony  which  you,  gentlemen,  could  have  given  of  your 
approbation  of  my  conduct,  so  I  assure  you  it  is  the  most  acceptable 
which  I  could  have  received.  From  early  infancy,  I  have  been  taught 
to  love,  esteem  and  reverence  it,  as  the  polar  star  of  my  course  tlirough 
life,  and  the  sheet  anchor  of  my  hopes  hereafter.'  " 

It  would  seem  from  the  foregoing  account,  that  a  large  proportion,  at 
least,  of  the  passengers,  with  the  captain,  and  probably  of  the  crew  also, 
were  real  Christians ;  persons  with  whom  the  gospel  of  Christ  was  not  a 
system  of  mere  notions  in  the  mind,  not  atfecting  the  heart,  or  of  mere 
forms  without  life  or  power  in  the  soul.  Evidently,  Christianity  with 
them  was  the  power  of  God  exercised  in  their  hearts,  giving  peace  of 
conscience,  stability  of  soul,  and  preparedness  for  any  event,  even  for  the 
last  dark  hour  —  for  death  itself,  in  its  most  fearful  form,  and  for  the 
eternal  world. 

Could  anything  but  Christianity  do  all  this  ?  Could  anything  but  a' 
true  confidence  in  Jesus  as  the  Saviour,  and  in  the  triune  God  as  a 
Father  who  had  reconciled  them  to  himself  through  Jesus,  have  given 
hopes  and  anticipations  which  could  so  calm  the  troubled  spirit  in  a  time 
of  such  peril  ? 

There  can  be  but  one  answer.  Nothing  but  a  living  faith  in  Jesus  can 
produce  such  results,  or  account  for  them.  0  reader,  place  your  soul  on 
THIS  ROCK.    "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved." 


AND     I  N  S  T  K  1    r  T  I  0  N  .  203 


^  ^untiait  ;it  lliiynctlr. 

f^^)       N  the  road  from  ^Mouiit  Carniel  to  Xazaretli,  one  of 
1y\\^    our  party  liad  to  dismount  and  lie  on  the  ground, 
'\W!ifW^  heing  weak  after  an  attack  of  fever.     lie  was  aroused 
^■■.6;    !    .,  '^''iip^  when  lialf  asleep  by  the  noise  of  men  running,  and 
-— ^^^^v>„v^jX^^  '  found  they  were  pursuing  a  large  snake,  which  at 
'    '  last  tlie}' killed  quite  close  to  him.     Perhaps  it  was 

to  a  snake  crossing  the  traveller's  path  that  Jacob  alluded,  when  he  said, 
"Dan  shall  be  a  serpent  by  the  way,  an  adder  in  the  path,  that  biteth 
the  horse-heels,  so  that  his  rider  shall  fall  Viaekwards." 

There  was  a  village  near  the  road  where  the  people  had  all  left  their 
ordinary  dwellings,  and  were  living  in  huts  made  of  green  boughs, 
placed  on  the  flat  roofs  of  their  houses.  We  were  at  once  reminded  of 
the  feast  of  tabernacles  by  seeing  these  arbours  used  as  habitations,  as 
also  of  Paul's  allusion  to  it  in  2  Cor.  v.  1:  "For  we  know  that  if  our 
earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of 
God,  an  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 

It  was  pitch  dark  when  our  caravan  reached  Nazareth,  and  set  us 
down  at  the  Casa  Nuova  attached  to  the  Franciscan  convent.  The 
drear\-  appearance  of  the  town  without  any  lights  is  hardly  to  be  under- 
stood from  description  ;  yet  some  of  the  large  towns  in  the  Papal  states 
in  Ital^^  have  not  even  an  oil-lamp  in  the  streets  after  nightfall ;  and, 
alas!  there  is  a  worse  darkness  there,  even  a  spiritual  darkness.  The 
Psalmist  tells  how  this  may  be  made  bright:  "Thy  word,"  he  says,  "is 
a  lamp  unto  my  feet,  and  a  light  nnto  my  path." 

At  Xazareth  there  are  people  who  make  horse-shoes,  formed  so  as  to 
cover  all  the  hoof  of  the  horse,  leaving  only  a  small  hole  in  the  middle. 
The  loud  din  of  these  blacksmiths  hammering  awakened  us  very  early 
on  Sunday  morning;  but  in  mj' dreams  it  sounded  like  a  village  bell, 
ringing  to  service  on  God's  holv  dav.     How  sad  it  is  to  find  the  Lord's 


204  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

(lay  neglected  here,  where  Clirist  spent  so  many  years  of  his  life!  It  is 
to  be  confessed,  with  sorrow,  that  many  Englisli  travellers  set  a  very  bad 
example  in  this  matter.  Let  us  recollect,  that  it  is  the  example  of  Christ, 
and  not  of  professing  Christians,  which  we  ought  to  follow.  A  benevo- 
lent monk,  Joachim  by  name,  came  from  his  cell  to  see  me.  He  ap- 
peared quite  ignorant  of  the  duties  and  privileges  of  the  blessed  day  of 
icst,  and  knew  more  about  the  false  and  stupid  legends  told  concerning 
Nazareth  than  of  the  history  and  doctrine  of  Jesus.  In  one  house,  he 
said,  there  was  a  stone  table  where  our  Lord  used  to  snp  with  his  apos- 
tles. In  another,  Joseph  and  Mar}'  lived ;  and  a  broken  pillar  was 
pointed  out  as  the  place  where  Mary  stood,  when  the  angel  spoke  to  her. 
Luke  i.  28. 

However,  we  left  these  uncertainties,  and  went  out  to  the  fields,  where 
the  Saviour  is  said  to  have  walked  wlien  his  disciples  plucked  the  ears 
of  corn.  This  happened  "  on  the  second  Sabbath  after  the  first,"  and  on 
that  day,  according  to  Lev.  xxiii.  14,  no  one  might  eat  "  bread,  or  parched 
corn,  or  green  ears."  The  Lord  of  the  Sabbath  showed,  by  referring 
to  the  case  of  David,  that  the  eeremonial  law  must  yield  to  necessity; 
and  by  alluding  to  the  priest's  occupation  in  the  temple  on  the  Sabbath, 
he  showed  that  in  holy  things  manual  labour  on  that  day  was  permitted 
by  the  moral  law.  The  silent  sanction  given  by  Christ  on  this  occasion 
to  the  sanctification  of  one  day  in  seven,  is  a  convincing  proof  that  he 
intended  it  to  be  observed,  while  by  explaining  the  exception  to  a  literal 
or  rigorous  interpretation  of  the  law,  he  showed  how  he  would  have  the 
Lord's  day  sanctified. 

I  gave  Joachim  a  piece  of  gutta  percha  to  use  in  dressing  wounds, 
and  wrote  for  him  a  long  history  of  it  in  Latin,  as  he  said  it  had  never 
been  seen  in  Palestine,  and  the  monks  in  all  the  convents,  even  to  Persia, 
would  be  anxious  for  information  about  it.  He  gave  me  some  seeds  of 
balsam,  or  balm,  of  the  size  of  beans,  and  pulled  out  of  the  very  wide 
sleeves  of  his  brown  capote  a  large  collection  of  medicinal  herbs.     These, 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  205 

it  seems,  liG  fjatliored  liimself  on  the  hills,  and  lie  took  great  pleasure  in 
learning  tlieir  Latin  names. 

The  town  of  Xazaretli  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Old  Testament.  The 
reputation  of  the  inhabitants. seems  to  have  been  always  bad.  Many  of 
them  were  eseaped  thieves  and  prisoners  from  the  heathen  distriet  of 
Acre,  from  Samaria,  or  from  Philistia ;  all  of  these  being  very  near. 
"Can  there  any  go()d  thing  come  out  of  Xazaretli  ?"  asked  Xathaiiiel. 
But  after  our  Lord's  death,  when  Peter  invoked  the  power  of  his 
divine  Master  in  the  most  solemn  wa}-,  he  said  to  tlie  cripple,  "In  the 
name  of  Jesus  of  Xazareth,  rise  up  and  walk."  It  is  Christ  us  a  Saviour, 
once  hundde,  rejected,  and  of  no  i-ejuitation,  who  has  power  to  make  us 
rise  up  and  walk  after  him,  through  life  and  death,  and  who  can  raise  us 
liigher,  even  to  his  own  right  hand  in  glory. 

A  large  herd  of  cattle  passed  by  as  we  were  speaking  about  these 
texts.  There  were  more  than  twenty  drivers,  each  furnished  with  a  stick 
five  or  six  feet  long,  and  with  an  iron  point  or  nail  fastened  to  the  smaller 
end.  There  is  a  very  curious  verse  in  the  12th  chapter  of  Ecclesiastes, 
which  is  somewhat  dark  in  meaning,  until  a  little  knowledge  of  eastern 
customs  enables  us  to  understand  completely  the  proverb  it  contains.  In 
the  11th  verse  of  that  chapter  it  is  said,  "  The  words  of  the  wise  are  as 
goads,  and  as  nails  fastened  by  the  masters  of  assemblies,  which  are 
given  from  one  shepherd."  Xow,  there  used  to  be  a  custom,  and  it  still 
is  observed  to  some  extent,  that  the  head-herdsman  alone  was  allowed 
to  fix  the  points  into  the  ends  of  the  goads.  For  this  purpose  he  keeps 
some  simple  tools;  "yet  they  had  a  file  to  sharpen  the  goads,"  (1  Sam. 
xiii.  21),  and  he  is  careful  to  prevent  any  of  the  goads  from  having  their 
points  too  long  or  too  sharp,  else  they  might  injure  the  cattle;  but  he 
also  sharpens  those  goads  which  have  become  blunt  through  use.  The 
words  of  the  wise  are  like  these  goads ;  they  are  not  too  sharp,  and 
though  thej'  may  have  force  to  arouse,  they  should  not  have  bitterness  to 
wound.  If  the  Lord  be  our  shepherd,  we  shall  ever  deal  tenderly  with 
bis  sheep. 


2G6  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

A  woman  also  followed  tliis  herd.  On  her  wrists  were  large  metal 
rings,  and  others  like  them  were  also  fastened  npon  her  ankles.  These 
"  tinkling  ornaments  about  their  feet"  are  put  on  in  cliililhdod,  and  when 
the  limbs  increase  in  size,  tlie  rings  remain  tixed  t'itv  life.  On  another 
occasion,  I  saw  a  woman  at  Constantinople,  who  had  1500  gold  coins 
plaited  into  her  hair;  indeed  all  her  fortune  was  hanging  from  her  head. 
Many  wore  gold  rings  with  glass  beads  on  them,  througji  the  cartilages 
of  the  nose.  We  see  an  allusion  to  this  in  Isa.  iii.  21;  and  the  ring 
given  to  Rebekah,  (Gen.  xxiv.  22)  was  probably  of  this  sort.  Kings  for 
the  fingers  were  often  used;  and  I  brought  home  a  mummy's  liand  from 
Eg3'pt,  which  still  has  a  ring  with  a  gem  in  it  upon  the  third  finger. 

We  soon  came  near  to  Kench,  which  is  the  ancient  Cana.  Tiiere  is 
but  one  fountain  for  this  village,  and  there  is,  thcrefure,  but  little  doubt 
that  from  thence  was  drawn  the  water  which  Jesus  turned  into  wine. 
Some  very  poor-looking  women  were  drawing  water  from  this  well.  One 
of  them  had  a  little  child,  sitting  astride  on  her  shoulder,  and  holding 
round  his  mother's  neck. 

From  this  road  we  could  see  Tabor,  a  round  hill,  about  a  thousand 
feet  high,  and  generally  considered  to  be  the  place  where  Christ  was 
transfigured.  The  summit  is  covered  with  the  ruins  of  convents  and 
chapels.  The  vast  plain  of  Esdraelon,  or  Jezreel,  surrounds  Mount 
Tabor.  The  soil  has  ten  or  twelve  feet  depth  of  the  richest  loam,  and 
thistles  sometimes  grow  here  ten  feet  high ;  but  still  there  are  only  a  few 
scattered  tents  upon  its  ample  surface. 

We  observed  several  scorpions  in  this  vallej',  but  found  only  one  of  a 
white  colour.  It  is  probable  that  more  knowledge  is  required  before  we 
can  fully  understand  how  a  scor[)ion  could  at  all  resemble  an  egg,  so  as 
to  see  the  meaning  of  our  Lord's  words  about  a  child  and  his  earthly 
parent  —  "If  he  shall  ask  an  egg,  will  he  offer  him  a  scorpion?"  Yet 
Bochart  says  that  there  are  scorpions  very  like  eggs,  when  they  coil 
themselves  up  to  avoid  danger.  The  monk,  Joachim,  candidly  confessed 
to  me  that  he  did  not  read  his  Bible  at  all,  and  tliercfore  could  not  con- 


AND     INSTRUCTION.  207 

Torsc  upon  the  snliject.  "Wlille  we  were  vainly  striving  to  overrule  his 
objections  to  hear  s(_>nie  verses  read,  a  sudden  but  violent  storm  arose, 
and  loud  thunder  echoed  throu.<j;h  the  mountains.  "The  brow  of  the 
hill  whereon  their  city  was  built"  was  every  moment  gleaming  as  the 
lightning  flashed.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents,  and,  in  the  course  of  an 
hour,  a  river  flowed  past  the  convent  door,  along  what  lately  was  a  dry 
and  quiet  street.  In  the  darkness  of  the  night  we  heard  loud  slirieks 
for  help.  The  flood  carried  awaj-  baskets,  logs  of  wood,  tables,  and  fruit 
stands.  At  lengtli  a  general  alarm  was  given.  Two  houses,  built  on 
the  sand,  were  undermined  by  the  water,  and  both  fell  together,  while 
the  people  in  them  escaped  with  difBculty.  It  was  impossihle  not  to 
pity  these  poor,  houseless  creatures,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  thank  God 
that  we  Avere  in  a  secure  building.  The  power  and  meaning  was  thus 
made  plain  of  these  words  spoken  by  our  Lord :  "  Therefore,  whosoever 
heareth  these  sayings  of  mine  and  doeth  them,  I  will  liken  him  unto  a 
wise  man,  which  built  his  house  upon  a  rock;  and  the  rains  descended 
and  the  floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew  and  beat  upon  that  house,  and 
it  fell  not,  for  it  was  founded  upou  a  rock." 


•208 


PORTFOLIO     OF    ENTERTAINMENT 


Smsmii  ;tni)  its  |fl;uiirr. 

•Be  thou  faithful  unto  death  and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life."— Rev.  ii.  10. 

5D  HESE  words  are  inscribed  above  tlie  pulpit  of  the 
'  Englisli  chapel  at  Bonja,  and  are  read  by  the  traveller 
with  a  thrill  of  peculiar  interest.  This  picturesque 
village,  a  favourite  resort  of  the  English  residents  at 
Smyrna,  lies  at  the  distance  of  three  miles  from  the 
city.  Leaving  Smyrna,  we  cross  a  bridge  thrown  over 
the  little  river  Meles,  renowned  as  the  stream  on  the  banks  of  which 
Homer  was  born,  and  travelling  tln-ough  a  pleasant  valley,  quicklj'  reach 
Bonja,  a  lovely  place,  redolent  with  the  beauties  of  garden  and  shrubbery 
surrounding  its  villa  homes,  and  boasting  an  abundant  foliage  even  in  its 
common  streets,  where  great,  wide-spreading  trees  stand  between  the 
houses,  under  the  shade  of  which  the  inhabitants  spend  many  a  social 
hour.  The  neighbouring  scenery  is  grand.  Mount  Corax  rises  near  the 
village,  and  in  the  distance  beyond  are  seen  the  magnificent  heights  of 
Traolus ;  on  the  north  stands  Mount  Sipylus ;  and  over  all  breaks  the 
quiet,  solemn  light  of  the  Lord's  day  morn,  just  as  it  did  eighteen  cen- 
turies ago,  when  near  this  very  spot  the  Christians  used  to  assemble,  to 
whom  the  words  written  over  that  pu]i)it  were  originally  addressed. 

"Above  all  Greek,  above  all  Roman  fame,"  is  the  distinction  earned  by 
the  churches  of  Smyrna  and  Philadelphia.  They  alone  drew  from  the 
Master  words  of  unqualified  approbation.  Sin  and  imperfection  were, 
doubtless,  to  be  found  amongst  them,  yet  so  worthily  did  they  bear  the 
name  of  Christ  that  he,  while  "searching  the  heart,"  found  it  needful  to 
mingle  no  sound  of  reproof  with  the  language  of  i>ity,  encouragement, 
and  promise  in  which  he  addressed  them.  And  this  while  corruption 
had  been  making  sad  pi'Ogress  all  around  —  love  waxing  cold  —  false 
doctrine  and  unchristian  deeds  so  prevailing  amongst  the  churches  of 


'Some  were  cast  to  the  wilil  beasts."      Page  2(>i) 


A  5  D    I  K  S  T  R  r  C  T  I  0  X  .  209 

tlie  Lord,  as  to  olirit  even  fVoin  Lis  gracious  lips  the  message  of  stern 
rebuke  and  awful  tLroatcning. 

Smyrna  has  escaped  the  fate  of  its  ancient  contemporaries  in  Asia 
Minor,  and  still  exists  in  a  flourishing  condition.  The  stately  grandeur 
■which  it  boasted  in  the  old  daj's  of  Ionia's  magnificence  has  indeed 
vanished  ;  nevertheless  it  continues  to  be  an  important  city.  And  truly 
"beautiful  for  situation"  is  this  great  emporium  of  the  trade  of  the 
Levant,  once  "the  rpieen  of  Anatolia,"  "the  crown  of  Ionia,"  "the 
ornament  of  Asia."  Worthily'  bestowed  names,  the  traveller  thinks,  as 
he  sails  up  its  fine  gulf,  and  gazes  on  the  fair  scene  before  him,  where, 
just  at  the  curve  of  the  baj-,  the  cit}-  stretches  along,  its  buildings  partly 
concealed  by  a  movable  screen  of  tall  cypress  trees. 

It 'is  difiicult  to  ascertain  what  the  present  number  of  inhabitants  may 
T)e;  it  is  stated  at  various  figures,  varying  from  130,000  to  200,000.  In 
the  same  way  the  Greek  portion  of  the  population  is  set  down  by  some 
writers  at  20,000,  by  others  at  50,000. 

In  fine  harmony-  with  the  character  of  tlie  first  believers  at  Smyrna, 
and  beautifully  illustrative  of  obedience  to  the  Saviour's  command,  "Be 
3'e  faithful  unto  death,"  is  the  immediately  succeeding  history  of  this 
church.  In  the  persecution  under  Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus,  the  Chris- 
tians of  Smyrna,  in  common  with  those  of  man}'  other  places,  suffered 
severely.  A  beautiful  letter  addressed  by  them  to  the  neighbouring 
churches,  relates  the  tale  of  their  trials,  and  how  their  brethren  had 
proved  themselves  "faithful  unto  death" — a  death  of  cruel  torture. 
Some  were  cast  to  the  wild  beasts;  some  passed  through  the  fiames; 
and  others  were  compelled  to  lie  upon  sharp  spikes.  Polycaqi,  the  dis- 
ciple of  John,  and  probably  "tlie  angel  of  the  church  in  Smyrna,"  to 
whom  the  apocalyptic  message  was  sent,  was  now  a  very  aged  man. 
Yet  when  the  infuriated  cry  arose,  "Away  with  the  atheists;  let  Polycarp 
be  sought  for !"  the  brave  veteran  of  the  cross  would  willingly  have  re- 
mained and  faced  the  storm.  But  his  friends  eagerly  urged  him  to  with- 
draw from  the  city  for  a  time,  and  persuaded  him  to  remove  to  a  country 
14 


210  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTERTAIHMENT 

Louse  at  a  little  distance.  Ills  retreat  was  discovered,  and  ho  passed  to 
unother  refuge.  But  when  tliis  also  was  found  out,  he  refused  to  rnako 
any  further  attempts  at  escape,  calmly  saying,  "  The  will  of  the  Lord  be 
done."  His  pursuers  "he  saluted  with  a  very  cheerful  and  gentle  coun- 
tenance, ordering  a  table  to  be  spread  for  them,  so  that  they  wondered 
to  behold  so  venerable  a  person,  of  so  great  age,  and  so  gi-ave  and  com- 
posed a  presence;  and  wondered  what  needed  so  much  stir  to  hunt  and 
take  this  poor  old  man."  A  prayer  followed,  so  solemn  and  affecting, 
that  the  hearts  even  of  his  enemies  were  touched.  It  was  the  Lord's  day 
when,  seated  on  an  ass,  the  martyr  was  conducted  into  the  city.  On  his 
way  he  was  met  by  the  irenarch,  who,  taking  him  up  into  his  chariot, 
endeavoured  to  persuade  him  to  make  tlie  concession  necessary  to  save 
his  life,  representing  how  trivial  a  thing  it  was  to  sacrifice  a  few  grains 
of  incense  to  the  emperor.  "It  is  not  for  me  to  do  what  you  advise," 
was  the  mild  but  firm  reply  of  the  Christian;  whereupon  he  was  thrust 
out  of  the  chariot  with  such  violence  as  to  fall  and  wound  his  leg. 

Arrived  at  the  stadium,  crowded  with  a  fierce  and  yelling  multitude, 
the  confessor  stood  quiet,  and  unmoved.  Then,  sounding  loud  and  clear 
above  the  frightful  din,  was  a  voice  heard  saying,  "Be  strong,  0  Poly- 
carp,  and  play  the  man."  No  one  knew  or  could  ascertain  by  whom  the 
words  were  spoken,  and  we  need  not  wonder  that  the  poor  harassed  and 
excited  Christians  should  have  regarded  it  as  a  voice  from  heaven.  Poly- 
carp  was  again  urged  to  deny  his  Lord. 

"  Regard  thy  great  age,"  said  the  proconsul ;  "  swear  by  the  genius  of 
Ciesar ;  repent,  and  say  with  us,  Take  away  the  impious !" 

"  Take  away  the  impious  !"  repeated  the  venerable  man,  glancing  on 
the  idolatrous  crowd  around. 

Mistaking  Polycarp's  meaning,  and  encouraged  by  what  seemed  to  him 
a  concession,  the  proconsul  quickly  added,  "  Swear,  and  I  will  release 
thee  !     Eenounce  Christ !" 

"  Eighty-aud-six  years  have  I  served  him,"  was  the  indignant  reply, 


AND     INSTRUCTION.  211 

"  and  bo  never  did  me  any  Lann  ;  liow  can  I  tben  renounce  my  King,  my 
Saviour!" 

Still  reluctant  to  condemn,  the  magistrate  endeavoured  to  shake  his 
resolution  liy  dilating  on  the  friglittul  tortures  which  awaited  liim  — 
thrown  to  the  wild  beasts  or  burned  at  the  stake.  But  with  divine  joy 
beaming  in  his  face,  the  aged  saint  replied,  "  Why  delaj-cst  thou  ?  Bring 
forth  whatever  thou  hast  a  mind  to  ?" 

At  length  the  decisive  proclamation  was  made,  'Tolycarp  has  con- 
fessed himself  a  Christian,"  and  the  great  stadium  rung  with  the  shouts 
of  the  idolaters:  "  This  is  that  master  of  Asia  —  that  father  of  the  Chris- 
tians—  that  overturner  of  our  deities  —  who  teaclies  so  many  not  to 
offer  sacritice  nor  to  worship  the  gods."  A  demand  was  made  that  he 
should  be  delivered  to  the  wild  beasts,  but  this  was  refused,  as  contrary 
to  the  order  of  the  games.  Tlien  the  cry  arose  that  be  should  be  burnt 
alive,  which  being  acceded  to,  materials  were  quickly  gathered  to  form 
a  pile  —  the  Jews,  with  bitter  hatred  to  the  Christians,  and  also  no  doubt 
to  mark  their  separation  from  them,  taking  care  to  be  specially  active  in 
tlie  work.  When  all  was  ready,  it  was  proposed  to  nail  liim  to  the  stake, 
but  he  begged  that  this  might  not  be  done,  saying  tliat  God  would  give 
him  strength  to  remain  unmoved.  When  bound,  prayers,  such  as  a  mar- 
tyr hastening  to  his  crown  might  oiier,  ascended  from  that  pile,  which 
was  speedily  after  enveloped  in  flames.  The  death  of  I'olyoarp  took 
place  A.  D.  1G7. 

The  scene  of  this  and  many  otlier  martyrdoms  occupies  a  site  on  the 
side  of  a  hill,  which  is  strewn  all  over  with  the  architectural  remains  of 
various  ages  and  various  races.  Bartlett  visited  the  spot,  in  company 
^\  itli  tlie  American  missionaries  resident  in  Smyrna.  Having  gained  the 
suininit  of  the  hill,  "my  companions,"  he  saj-s,  "pointing  to  a  green 
hollow  in  the  mountain,  Init  a  short  distance  below,  exelainied,  '  Tliat  is 
the  spot ;  it  was  there  that  I'olycarp  sutfered.'     We  now  descended  to  it. 

"The  stadium,  or  amphitlieatre,  hollowed  out  in  the  hill  side,  on  a  site 
which  catches  every  breeze  that  blows,  commands  a  wide  and  glorious 


212  PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTERTAINJIENT 

prospect  over  Smyrna  and  its  far-stretchiug  gulf.  Here  were  wont  to 
assemble  the  thoughtless  multitude  of  Asiatic  idlers — how  vacant  and 
how  silent  is  it  now  !  Its  sides  and  hollow  are  as  thiclcly  covered  with 
turf  as  the  surrounding  hill,  through  which  appear  here  and  there  the 
marble  seats,  or  the  orifices  of  the  dens  in  which  the  wild  beasts  were 
confined."  "It  stands,"  says  the  deputation  from  the  Church  of  Scot- 
land, describing  the  same  scene,  "  on  the  face  of  a  liill,  the  sides  of  a 
concave  valley  forming  a  natural  amphitheatre  for  the  accommodation  of 
spectators.  The  space  may  be  about  five  hundred  feet  long  on  each  side, 
at  either  end  of  which  rose  seats  for  the  spectators.  Near  it  is  a  range 
of  broken  arches,  which  formed  part  of  the  vaults  where  the  wild  beasts 
were  kept." 

Our  fidelity  to  Christ  is  subjected  to  no  such  tests  as  that  endured  by 
the  ancient  Christians  of  Smj-rua,  the  modern  Christians  of  Madagascar, 
or  even  the  Bible-loving  inhabitants  of  some  parts  of  modern  Europe. 
Nevertheless  we,  even  we,  in  this  free,  happj-,  privileged  land,  have 
need  to  take  heed  to  the  admonition,  "Be  thou  faithful  unto  death." 
With  VIS,  too,  it  is  a  possible  thing  to  be  false  to  our  Lord.  The  tempta- 
tion to  deny  his  name  is  not  indeed  great.  But  this  is  not  the  only  mode 
of  being  unfaithful  to  him.  Fidelity  requires  a  heart  earnestly  devoted 
to  him,  and  a  life  which  we  honestly  seek  to  mould  in  all  its  circum- 
stances to  the  pattern  set  before  us,  and  to  have  pervaded  in  its  every 
action  by  a  loving  desire  to  promote  his  glory,  and  to  extend  his  king- 
dom in  the  hearts  of  men.  Less  than  this  is  unfaithfulness  to  him.  It 
is  misrepresenting  his  service ;  it  is  driving  from  him  those  who  ought 
to  be  his  subjects;  it  is  detracting  from  the  sura  total  of  goodness  which 
blesses  the  world  and  which  he  came  to  produce,  and  adding  to  the  dark 
mass  of  evil  by  which  it  is  oppressed  and  which  he  came  to  remove.  How 
great  a  sin !  And  we  ai-e  allured  into  habits  and  mental  states  which 
involve  it,  by  temptations  varied,  constant  and  pressing.  The  health  of 
this  man's  soul  is  injured  by  the  whirl  of  commercial  excitement,  the 
goading  cares  and  anxieties  of  business  —  unavoidable  business;  others, 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  213 

still  less  excusably,  penult  tlio  quieter  engagements  of  private  life  so  to 
fill  the  heart  and  tlionglits  that  the  spiritual  life  languishes.  The  weari- 
ness of  constant  labour,  and  thu  depression  induced  l:iy  looking  through 
a  long  vista  of  toil — toil  ever  —  toil  ceasing  only  with  life,  and  little  else 
than  toil — -ofttinies  blunts  the  spiritual  sensibilities  and  weakens  the 
faith  and  liope,  the  love  and  joy  of  the  poor  Christian.  He  forgets  what 
his  Saviour  said  to  the  afflicted  saints  in  Smyrna,  and  what  he  says  to 
every  poor  Christian  yet  —  "I  know  thy  poverty,  but  thou  art  rich." 

The  opposite  temptations  of  pride,  pleasure,  luxury,  and  indolence, 
tend  to  drag  downwards  a  different  class.  They  are  so  occupied  with 
adorning  their  tents,  so  busy  tasting  the  rills  which  flow  by  their  path, 
that  they  are  in  danger  of  forgetting  their  pilgrim  condition —pilgrims 
■who  ought  indeed  to  be  thankful  to  tlie  bounteous  Friend  who  has  pro- 
vided them  with  these  refreshing  rills,  and  sweet  flowers,  and  convenient 
tents,  which  he  intends  them  to  enjo}',  but  not  so  to  enjoy  as  to  forget 
him,  his  service,  and  their  eternal  home  with  him.  ISTot  that  in  any  of 
these  circumstances  successful  temptation  must  necessarily  be  found.  But 
all  of  them  will  furnish  such,  if  we  be  careless  in  "  keeping  the  heart." 
It  shall  not  endure  for  ever.  It  extends  only  over  the  interval  which  lies 
between  us  and  death.  This  is  a  chef[uered  state,  furnished  by  the 
gracious  Creator  with  many  sources  of  enjoyment,  but  with  some  dark 
clouds  in  each  man's  horizon,  in  that  of  the  Christian  as  well  as  others. 
But  to  him  all  these  clouds  have  "a  silver  lining;"  consoling  and  sus- 
taining grace,  he  knows,  shall  never  fail  to  accompany  their  breai'ciug. 
And  then  there  is  the  eternal  future,  over  whose  surpassing  brightness 
no  shade  may  pass ;  and  the  crown  of  life,  including  all  we  can  imagine 
"  the  fulness  of  joy"  to  mcau. 


214 


PORTFOLIO    OF    ENTEKTAINMENT 


%\)t  .SunlJiur  ^Utocr. 


LLEN  was  a  young  girl  who  had  been  mercifully 
brought  to  a  knowledge  of  God,  and  of  his  great  love 


'^i^ifcli/^     \      *^  sinners  in  sending  his  only-begotten  Son  to  die  for 
'<'•-'' \^   "^"^A     them.     There  was  nothing  that  she  liked  better  than 


-■5«il,-Ji--„J^^^,  reading,  talking,  or  thinking  of  all  that  lier  kind  Sa- 
'  '  /  '*/'  ^/  *  viour  had  done  for  her ;  and  to  her  the  Sabliath  was, 
therefore,  truly  a  delight,  because  it  afforded  her  opportunities  of  doing 
so  without  interruption.  She  had  an  uncle,  who  resided  in  a  cottage 
about  a  mjle  from  the  town  where  Ellen  lived ;  and  as  he  was  always 
read^-  to  converse  with  her,  and  give  her  instruction  on  the  subjects 
which  she  liked  best,  she  visited  him  whenever  she  could. 

One  fine  Sunday,  in  summer,  after  returning  from  worship,  when  the 
other  young  persons  of  Ellen's  family  went  to  take  a  walk,  she,  as  usual, 
set  oft"  to  pass  the  day  with  uncle  John.  Her  way  was  mostly  through 
the  fields;  and  as  she  bounded  with  a  light  step  over  the  grass,  enjoving 
the  perfume  of  the  newly-cut  hay,  and  fragrant  woodbine  that  grew  in 
tlie  hedges,  she  thought  of  his  goodness  who  had  made  the  world  so 
pleasant  a  place  for  man  to  dwell  in ;  and  then  lifted  up  her  heart  to 
thank  him  for  having  instituted  his  Sabbath,  thereby  affording  to  many 
an  opportunity  of  enjoying  the  beauties  of  his  works  and  praising  him 
for  them,  who  would  otherwise  be  excluded,  in  a  great  degree,  from  this 
higli  and  hoi}-  pleasure. 

On  arriving  at  her  uncle's  residence,  she  did  not  seek  liim  in  tlio  house, 
for  «lie  knew  where  he  was  wont  to  pass  the  Sunday  afternoon.  Tliere 
was  a  bower  at  the  top  of  his  little  lawn,  well  shaded  from  the  sun,  while 
it  admitted  every  fresh  breeze.  There  was  a  stream  running  near,  on 
whose  banks  wild  meadow-sweet  grew  in  profusion  ;  indeed,  altogether, 
uncle  John's  Sunday  bower  was  a  very  pleasant  retreat. 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  215 

As  Ellen  ajiproiiclictl  it,  slie  saw  liini  seated,  with  a  little  tal>le  l)cforo 
liim,  on  wliicli  was  placed  an  open  Bible,  lie  seemed  as  if  so  dt'oply 
engaged  in  thinking  over  what  he  had  been  reading,  that  he  did  not  per- 
ceive his  niece  till  she  spoke ;  and  she  observed  that,  though  there  was 
a  happj'  smile  upon  his  countenance,  his  eyea  were  nioiHtenod  with  tears, 
lie  welcomed  Ellen  with  Ins  usual  kindness;  and  when  she  expressed  a 
fear  that  she  had  interrupted  him,  replied,  "ISTo,  my  child;  I  liave  liad 
X)leasaut  thoughts  over  this  blessed  book,  and  am  willing  to  share  them 
with  3'ou." 

"  Thank  j-ou,  uncle.     What  part  were  you  considering  ?" 
lie  answered  :  "A  scene  of  such  touching  beauty  in  the  history-  of  our 
Lord,  that  every  time  1  read  it,  1  think  1  discern  some  point  of  interest 
which  escaped  me  before.     It  is  the  story  of  our  Saviour's  interview  with 
the  Samaritan  woman  by  the  well." 

"And  will  you  kindly  tell  me  what  thoughts  were  suggested  by  it  ?" 
"With  pleasure,  dear  Ellen,  though  1  feel  that  there  is  danger,  as  was 
once  observed  to  me,  of  sometimes  brushing  oif  the  bloom  of  a  Sci'ip- 
ture,  as  it  were,  by  too  much  handling  of  it;  as  one  might,  in  the  same 
way,  damage  some  delicious  fruit.  Let  us  desire  grace  to  taste  the  sweet- 
ness of  this  passage,  though  I  am  holding  it  in  my  hand,  and  turning  it 
over  and  over.  I  was  thinking  to-day,  dear  niece,  that  tliongh  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  was  indeed  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief 
during  his  pilgrimage  on  earth,  yet  we  may  sometimes  track  a  current 
of  joy  in  his  spirit  which  it  is  happy  to  notice.  For  instance,  wlien,  as 
related  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  Luke,  the  disciples  return  with  joy  to  tell 
him  that  the  devils  were  subject  to  them  in  his  name,  liis  soul  seems  to 
be  at  once  tilled  and  elevated,  and  he  utters  its  feeling  in  these  words, 
'1  beheld  Satan  as  lightning  fall  fi'om  heaven;'  his  spirit  then  finding, 
as  it  were,  vent  for  its  emotion  in  communion  with  his  God  —  'I  thank 
thee,  0  Father.'  This  world  was  usually  to  Jesus  a  dry  and  barren  land, 
where  no  water  was;  but  at  a  moment  like  this  his  spirit  seems  borne 
along  iu  a  flow  of  joy.     He  was  given  to  anticipate  the  overthrow  of 


216  POUTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

Satan,  and  tlio  acconiplislinicnt  of  the  'good  pleasure  of  liis  Fatlior.' 
Oil !  that  wc  felt  the  opening  of  sneli  mysteries  like  refreshing  springs 
for  our  souls  in  the  same  dry  and  barren  world.  IJut  there  was  another 
source  from  whence  gushed  re\'iving  draughts  for  the  spirit  of  Jesus  — 
the  conversion  of  sinners.  This  is  seen  eminently  in  the  passage  I  have 
referred  to  —  the  history  of  the  Samaritan  woman.  He  revealed  him- 
self to  her  as  her  Redeemer,  and  sent  her  away  happ}'  in  the  discovery 
—  so  happy  that  she  forgot  her  water-pot." 

"Well,  uncle,  I  have  before  noticed  this.  Does  it  not  seem  as  if  her 
heart  was  so  filled  with  the  spiritual  things  which  she  had  just  learned, 
that  she  had  no  regard,  no  recollection  of  temporal  things?" 

"Indeed,  it  does  ;  and  no  wonder.  This  poor  outcast  had  just  learned 
strange  lessons.  First,  she  had  been  taught  to  know  herself;  to  look 
well  and  carefully  round  on  '  all  things  that  ever  she  did  ;'  and  her  con- 
science was  fearfully  dismayed.  But  soon  the  unclean  Samaritan  finds 
that  he  who  speaks  to  her  is  the  Son  of  God  —  the  Lord  of  the  well  of 
life ;  he  who  could  give  her  that  living  water  of  which  she  might  freely 
drink  and  thirst  no  more.  This  was  joy^,  and  the  power  of  love  to  lier; 
and  she  hastened  to  communicate  it  to  her  friends.  It  separated  her 
from  her  own  pitcher;  but  it  filled  her  spirit  and  her  lips  with  a  testi- 
mony to  her  Saviour's  name.  But  it  was  chiefly  to  consider  the  joy  of 
the  Lord  himself,  that  I  wished  to  lead  your  attention  to  this  passage." 

"  Yes,  uncle ;  you  said  that  the  conversion  of  a  sinner  was  to  his 
soul  one  of  the  few  refreshing  springs  of  which  he  was  given  to  taste 
during  his  toilsome  journey  below." 

"  I  did ;  and  if  we  have  seen  that  the  joy  of  the  woman  was  great,  it 
was  not  so  great  as  his.  It  is  true  that  she  forgot  her  pitcher;  but  ho 
forgot  his  thirst.  We  gather  from  this  deeply-interesting  narrative  that 
when  Jesus,  after  his  fatiguing  exertions  sat  upon  the  well  at  S^-char,  he 
was  not  only  weary,  but  hungry  and  thirsty.  Oh !  how  apt  are  we  to  be  ab- 
eorbed  by  the  feeling  of  our  own  wants,  and  to  make  that  feeling  an  excuse 
to  our  couscieuccs  for  inattention  to  the  wants  of  others.     But  it  was  not 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  217 

SO  -u-itli  hira.  In  the  joy  of  having  hrought  a  poor  ruined  sinner  to  the 
knowledge  of  himself — whom  to  know  is  life  —  all  privations,  all  sutierings 
•were  forgotten ;  he  had  been  refreshed  with  spiritual  food,  and  to  his 
returning  disciples  was  ahle  to  testify,  '1  have  meat  to  eat  that  ye  know 
not  of.'  To  accomplish  his  Father's  will  in  the  recovery  and  life  of  a 
sinner  was  meat  and  drink  to  him.  Truly  may  we  exclaim,  'herein  was 
love'  — love  unspeakable  !  Is  it  not  encouraging  and  delightful  to  think 
of  it,  my  child?" 

"Indeed  it  is,  dear  uncle.  I  have  sometimes  thought  how  good,  how 
condescending  it  was  of  the  holy,  happy  angels  in  heaven  to  rejoice  in 
the  conversion  of  a  sinner,  as  we  arc  told  they  do ;  but  what  is  it  com- 
pared with  this  incident  in  the  life  of  Ilim  who  is  so  far  above  the  high- 
est of  them  ?  Ton  may  well  call  it  encouraging,  uncle ;  after  hearing 
of  it,  the  very  vilest  sinner  need  not  fear  to  come  to  Jesus." 

"We  may  also  be  humbled,"  continued  the  old  gentleman,  "when  we 
reflect  how  little  there  is  in  us  of  the  same  mind  that  was  in  Christ. 
How  seldom  do  our  spirits  rest,  like  his,  on  the  earthly  journey,  to  taste 
the  virtues  of  such  living  waters  as  cheered  his  drooping  soul ;  and  j-et 
how  pure,  how  divine,  such  joys  and  refreshments.  Did  we  but  love 
Jesus  as  we  ought,  we  should  be  '  instant  iu  season  and  out  of  season,' 
trying  to  bring  our  fellow  sinners  to  him,  and  finding  our  meat  and  drink 
in  doing  so.  To  triumph  in  the  present  salvation  of  a  soul,  and  in  the 
coming  overthrow  of  the  great  adversary,  and  the  accomplishmeut  of 
the  Father's  good  pleasure  — 

"  These  are  tbe  joys  that  satisfy 
And  sanctify  the  mind  j 
That  make  the  spirit  mount  on  high, 
And  leave  the  world  behind." 


218  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 


fust  l)«t  loiuib. 


A    TRUE    NAERATIVE. 


aS^  very  profligate  is  chased  by  the  fnries  of  remorse  and 
-  ^^  self-reproach,  and  mingles  in  his  cup  those  elements  of 
W^t^  I  bitterness  which  illustrate  the  truth  of  the  Scripture 
■''  .^^JM^  'T'J^h  statement,  that  "  the  -way  of  transgressors  is  liard." 
^5^3i^J^I^^  Oi  the  other  hand,  a  life  of  virtue  and  piety  is  ever 
t'  >  '  r  fi  "/  marked  by  inward  peace,  and,  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances, exerts  so  blessed  an  influence  on  a  man's  outward  condition  and 
worldly  fortunes  as  to  prove  that  to  be  pious  is  to  be  wise  for  both  worlds ; 
or,  as  Scripture  expresses  it,  that  "godliness  is  profitable  unto  all  things, 
having  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come." 
Some  there  are  whose  history  is  an  exemplification  of  both  these  princi- 
ples. While  they  lived  in  sin  and  sought  lying  vanities,  they  forsook 
their  own  mercies,  and  by  their  own  recklessness  and  folly  were  the 
authors  of  their  own  wretchedness.  But  having  been  reclaimed  from 
their  vicious  ways  and  brought  under  religious  influence,  prosperity  and 
comfort,  hand  in  hand  Avith  mental  peace,  followed  their  steps,  and 
misery  and  moral  debasement  were  succeeded  by  wealth,  honour,  and 
affluence. 

The  following  narrative,  though  in  some  of  its  particulars  singular  and 
striking,  supplies  an  instance  of  a  moral  and  social  transformation  of 
which  the  history  of  many  a  family  in  Britain  could  supply  a  parallel 
illustration. 

The  Eev.  Mr.  P.,  of  Leeds,  who  was  for  many  years  in  the  practice  of 
occupying  for  a  succession  of  Sabbaths  the  pulpit  of  the  Tabernacle  in 
London  (morning  and  evening  services  being  held  on  certain  of  the  inter- 
vening days),  was,  on  the  occasion  of  one  of  these  visits,  sauntering 
through  one  of  the  streets  in  the  west  part  of  London,  on  a  Monday  fore- 
noon.    His  object  was  relaxation,  the  exertions  of  the  previous  day 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  219 

liaviii;;  been  followed  Ly  a  degree  of  lassitude  and  exlianstion  wliidi 
nntitted  liini  for  mental  laLour.  During  his  stroll,  ho  was  politely 
aceosted  by  a  gentlemanly  stranger,  wlio  addressed  Lini  by  name,  and 
asked  permission,  though,  persoually  uidvuown  to  ]\Ir.  P.,  to  aeoompany 
him  for  a  short  distance.  After  the}-  had  leisurely  traversed  one  or  two 
streets,  Mr.  P.'s  companion  paused  before  a  large  and  handsome  mansion 
which  stood  in  one  of  the  squares  of  that  part  of  the  metropolis.  "May 
I  use  the  freedom,"  asked  the  stranger,  "of  inviting  you,  as  a  Christian 
minister  in  whom  I  feel  a  deep  interest,  to  enter  my  dwelling ;  and  as 
this  is  the  hour  of  luncheon,  to  join  me  iu  taking  some  refreshment?" 
The  minister,  who  had  engaged  with  some  degree  of  reserve  in  conversa- 
tion with  this  unknown  individual,  was  on  the  point  of  declining,  but  an 
irresistible  impulse  made  him  lay  aside  all  hesitation  and  distance,  and 
accept  the  invitation  as  frankly  as  it  had  been  given.  lie  found  himself 
forthwith  in  a  spacious  and  well-furnished  dwelling,  where  every  object 
that  met  the  eye  gave  proof  of  the  opulence  and  taste  of  its  occupant. 

Luncheon  having  been  served,  during  which  Mr.  P.  did  not  fail  to  per- 
ceive the  intelligence  and  piety  that  were  indicated  by  his  stranger  host 
in  the  course  of  their  conversation,  which  had  become  less  and  less  re- 
strained, the  latter  said:  "You  will,  doubtless,  Mr.  P.,  think  my  conduct 
strange  in  accosting  you  as  I  did  in  the  street,  though  unknown,  and 
inviting  you  to  be  my  guest  in  this  fashion." 

"I  do  think  it  very  remarkable,"  was  the  repl}-,  "and  am  at  no  little 
loss  to  account  for  this  incident." 

The  explanation  was  furnished  iu  the  following  auto-biographical 
narrative. 

"  I  was  sent  to  London,  when  a  lad,  to  prosecute  my  business,  my  parents 
having  been  induced  to  remove  me  from  my  home  by  a  tempting  ofter 
of  a  situation  which  was  made  to  mo  by  an  influential  and  wealthy  firm. 
I  was  blessed  with  a  religious  education  and  training,  under  the  eye  of 
my  parents,  both  of  whom  were  pious ;  and  I  took  with  me,  when  I  loft 
the  parental  roof,  the  principles  and  impressions  which  the  instructions 


220  PORTFOLIO     OF     K  K  T  l'  i;  T  A  I  K  M  E  X  T 

of  home  and  the  Sabbath-school,  and  the  consistent  example  of  my  father 
and  mother,  had  left  upon  my  youthful  mind.  I  liad  excellent  prospects 
of  rising  in  the  establishment  with  which  I  was  connected,  for  I  had, 
from  the  first,  secured  the  confidence  of  my  employers,  and  circumstances 
had  led  one  of  the  principal  partners  to  take  a  special  interest  in  me. 
The  conversation  of  those  into  whose  company  I  was  thrown,  however, 
gradually  obliterated  from  my  mind  the  influence  of  divine  truth ;  I  felt 
more  and  more  reconciled  to  the  spirit  and  ways  of  ungodly  youths, 
whose  profanity  and  recklessness  at  first  filled  me  with  grief  and  horror, 
until  at  length,  imbibing  much  of  their  feeling,  and  yielding  to  the  influ- 
ence of  daily  intercourse  with  them,  I  lost  mj-  habits  of  prayer,  Sabbath 
observance,  and  Scripture  reading,  and  forsook  the  house  of  God. 

"As  yet,  however,  I  was  attentive  to  ni}'  business,  sober,  regular,  and 
punctual;  and  having  got  repeatedly  a  rise  in  my  emoluments,  I  at  length 
entered  upon  married  life.  Ere  the  birth  of  our  fourth  child,  my  career 
had  become  one  of  rapid  degeneracy.  I  was  the  slave  of  dissipation  and 
intemperance.  Strong  drink  had  thrown  around  me  its  ruinous  spoil, 
and  occasionally  for  da^'s  together  I  would  be  absent  from  my  employ- 
ment with  associates  of  kindred  tastes,  spending  the  earnings  which 
should  have  been  bestowed  on  the  maintenance  of  my  wife  and  family. 
As  may  be  supposed,  I  lost  the  respect  of  my  employers  as  well  as  my 
own ;  and  in  course  of  time  I  was  dismissed  and  disgraced.  This  was 
the  commencement  of  a  long  series  of  misfortunes  which  dragged  me 
down  to  the  depths  of  penury  and  ruin.  The  little  ornaments  which  I 
had  given  to  my  wife  in  the  daj-s  of  our  courtship,  and  which  she  had 
treasured  with  fondness  as  memorials  of  my  aftection,  went  one  by  one 
to  the  pawnbroker,  to  procure  the  means  of  buying  a  scanty  meal,  and 
bj'-and-by  our  furniture  and  clothing,  and  our  very  articles  of  dress,  were 
thus  parted  with.  Words  fail  mo  to  picture  the  abject  wretchedness  of 
my  condition.  My  sins  now  pierced  my  soul  with  the  sting  of  a  scor- 
pion ;  remorse  haunted  me  night  and  day;  I  saw  a  virtuous  wife  broken 
in  heart  and  crushed  in  spirit  by  my  vicious  follies.     My  tender  babes 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  221 

were  in  want  because,  in  my  unnatural  cruelty,  I  tlirewaway  on  my  lusts 
what  sliouUI  have  gone  to  maintain  and  cherish  them,  ily  home,  which 
was  once  the  abode  of  peace  and  joy,  had  now  become  a  haunt  of  deso- 
lation and  despair.  Hell  was  in  my  breast,  and  I  sought  a  refuge  from  my 
self-accusations  and  intolerable  anguish  of  mind  in  a  purpose  of  suicide. 
"With  the  view  of  finding  for  myself  a  grave  in  the  waters  of  the 
Thames,  I  one  morning  left  m}-  miserable  home,  while  j^et  my  wife  and 
children  were  asleep.  I  well  remember  the  conflict  of  emotion  through 
M'hich  I  passed  on  that  dismal  morning,  and  the  sullen  repose  which  my 
fiendish  spirit  felt  when  it  settled  down  into  the  fixed  resolve  of  rushing 
unbidden  out  of  life  into  eternitj- !  Tlius  hating  myself,  and  all  the 
world,  and  breathing  defiance  to  the  God  of  heaven,  I  wandered  on, 
half  unconscious  of  every  external  object  which  I  passed.  I  came  to  a 
large  building  which  a  number  of  persons  were  entering.  From  a  mys- 
terious impulse  which  I  cannot  explain,  and  which  I  can  only  now  re- 
solve into  the  providence  of  God,  who  has  access  to  the  minds  of  his 
sinful  creatures  in  a  wa\'  which  we  are  uualile  to  comprehend,  I  joined 
these  individuals,  and  immediately  found  myself  in  a  large  and  well- 
filled  place  of  worship.  It  was  the  Tabernacle,  and  you  occupied  the 
pulpit.  Some  expressions  which  dropped  from  your  lips  during  prayer 
arrested  my  attention.  A  chord  which  had  long  been  silent  in  my 
breast  was  thereby  struck.  I  resolved  that  I  would  meantime  wait  a 
little  longer;  although  I  did  not  dejiart  from  my  resolution  to  seek  a 
termination  to  my  earthly  misery  in  self-destruction.  It  was  still  my 
fixed  resolve  that  within  an  hour  or  two  —  the  sooner  the  better  —  my 
wretched  life  should  be  cut  short.  Yet,  almost  in  spite  of  myself,  an 
unseen  power  held  me  to  the  spot.  You  gave  out  a  text,  from  which  to 
discourse  to  your  audience.  AYell  I  remember  the  words:  'When  the 
poor  and  needy  seek  water  and  there  is  none,  and  their  tongue  faileth 
them  for  thirst,  I,  the  Lord,  will  hear  them,  I,  the  God  of  Jacob,  will 
not  forsake  them.'  You  closed  by  an  appeal  to  your  hearers  who  were 
not  at  peace  with  God.     Xever  can  I  forget  the  soothing  and  tender 


222  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

tones  in  which  you  besought  them  to  turn  away  from  earth's  broken 
cisterns,  and  seek  happiness  in  God's  favour.  Tut  the  God  of  Jacob,' 
j-ou  said,  'to  the  test.  He  will  make  you  drink  of  the  cisterns  of  earthly 
prosperity,  so  for  as  he  sees  this  to  be  for  yonr  well-being.  But,  what  is 
more,  he  will  make  you  drink  of  the  cisterns  of  spiritual  enjoyment; 
and  he  will  make  you  partakers  of  the  hope  of  drinking  of  the  river  of 
the  water  of  life,  which  proceeds  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb : 
the  river  of  God's  pleasures  by  which  the  soul  shall  for  ever  be  refreshed.' 
The  Lord  directed  to  my  heart  the  word  of  heavenly  mercy.  It  was 
touched  as  it  had  never  been  by  the  grace  of  him  who  is  ready  to  par- 
don. I  saw  that  there  was  mercy  even  for  me.  I  stood  convicted  — 
ruined  —  helpless!  but  even  for  me  there  was  hope  in  God  and  in  the 
gospel.  I  resolved,  with  tears  of  penitence,  but  j-et  of  jo}-  —  such  tears 
as  I  never  before  had  shed  —  to  put  the  God  of  Jacob  to  the  test ;  to  look 
to  the  Lamb  of  God ;  and,  fallen  and  abject  as  I  was  by  my  iniquit}',  to 
return  unto  the  Lord. 

"  I  left  the  chapel,  and  turned  my-  steps  towards  my  miserable  home. 
I  acquainted  my  broken-hearted  wife  with  my  state  of  feeling,  and  re- 
vealed to  her,  who,  in  my  days  of  stupidity  and  reckless  folly,  had  ever 
sought  to  point  my  steps  to  virtue  and  pietj^,  the  hopes  and  aspirations 
of  which  my  breast  was  now  the  seat.  We  took  out  from  a  chest  the 
fragment  of  the  only  Bible  which  was  in  our  possession.  We  read  aloud 
a  portion  of  Scripture ;  and  for  the  first  time  knelt  together  before  the 
throne  of  grace,  asking  pardon  and  blessing,  spiritual  guidance  and 
eternal  salvation.  The  Bilile,  till  then  neglected,  became  from  that  hour 
my  companion  and  counsellor.  That  instance  of  family  prayer  was  the 
commencement  of  a  practice,  which,  through  the  help  of  God,  I  have 
continued  till  now.  I  rose  from  my  knees  on  that  occasion,  a  changed 
man.  It  proved  the  crisis  of  my  history:  strong  drink  I  liavo  alijured. 
That  forenoon,  the  postman  knocked  at  ni}-  door,  just  as  I  was  revolving 
the  perplexing  question  how  to  procure  a  meal  for  m}-  starving  wife  and 
children.     He  put  into  my  hand  a  letter.     It  proved  to  be  a  remittance 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  223 

of  five  pounds  from  a  fiieud  to  whom,  in  my  straits,  I  had  some  time 
before  applied  for  assistance.  It  enabled  us  to  provide  for  our  immediate 
wants.  It  supplied  me  with  decent  clothing.  I  made  application  for 
employment,  and  succeeded.  I  resumed  my  attendance  at  the  house  of 
God.  Being  a  skilful  workman,  I  gave  much  satisfaction  to  my  era- 
p)loyers,  and  by  my  sobriety,  steadiness,  and  industry,  established  myself 
in  their  confidence  and  good  opinion.  I  gradually  rose  in  the  establish- 
ment with  which  I  was  connected,  and  in  about  three  years,  on  the  death 
of  the  foreman,  was  appointed  to  his  place.  Some  time  thereafter,  I  was 
admitted  as  a  partner;  and  on  the  retirement,  a  few  years  subsequcntl}', 
of  the  head  of  the  firm,  of  whom  I  was  the  only  surviving  partner,  I 
succeeded  to  his  share  of  the  business.  Thus,  in  the  good  providence  of 
God,  he  has,  during  a  succession  of  3-ears,  filled  my  cup  of  earthly  pros- 
perity to  overflowing;  and  I  am  sure  that  you,  whom  God  employed  to 
be  the  instrument  of  my  spiritual  change,  will  rejoice  to  know  that  one 
who  was  LOST,  is  now  found." 

The  wealthy  merchant,  who  had  latterly  spoken  with  tears,  closed  his 
narrative. 

"  Striking  instance,  indeed!"  said  Mr.  P.,  "of  the  free  and  wondrous 
grace  of  God,  who  is  found  of  them  that  seek  him  not ;  you  put  tlie  God 
of  Jacob  to  the  test,  and  he  has  made  you  to  drink  of  the  cisterns  of 
earthly  enjoyment ;  but  I  trust  j-ou  can  testify  that  he  has  also  made  j'ou 
to  drink  of  the  cisterns  of  spiritual  blessing." 

"By  the  grace  of  God,"  was  the  rejoinder,  "I  am  what  I  am  :  and  to 
him  I  give  the  praise  for  that  hope  which  cheers  me,  realizing  '  the  ful- 
ness of  joy  which  is  in  his  presence,  and  of  the  pleasures  which  are  at 
his  right  hand  for  evermore  !'  " 

If  the  reader  be  one  who,  sick  of  sin's  waj'S,  is,  in  the  spirit  of  a  pen- 
itent, putting  the  God  of  Jacob  to  the  test  —  one  who,  when  his  tongue 
fails  him  fur  thirst,  calls  upon  tlic  Lord  who  has  promised  "  not  to  for- 
sake" the  suppliant  "poor  and  needy"  —  let  him  be  assured,  that  though 


224  PORTFOLIO    OP    ENTERTAINMENT 

lie  may  not  obtain  the  measure  of  outward  prosperity  wliicli  was  reached 
in  the  instance  of  a  return  to  tlie  ways  of  virtue  just  narrated,  he  will 
know  and  feel  that  in  seeking  God's  face,  he  returns  to  happiness.  Once 
LOST,  he  will  be  found. 


|(oIin  |;unirk,  |1;islor  of  tk  ^ctbUIrcms   (ilTurdr,   ^frliit. 

T  is  now  twentj'-seven  years  ago  since  this  excellent  man 
left  the  stage  of  life ;  but  to  many  good  people  in  Berlin 
it  seems  like  yesterda}'.  One  venerable  man,  at  whose 
house  we  were  late!}'  spending  a  few  days  in  that  city, 
said  to  us :  "  When  you  mention  Jaenicke's  name,  I  feel 
as  if  the  wheels  of  time  had  ceased  to  revolve  since  then, 
and  as  if  I  was  just  returning  from  that  extraordinary  funeral  procession 
wliich  accompanied  him  to  his  long  home,  the  scene  is  so  vividly  before 
me." 

"  That  was  a  wondrous  procession,"  he  went  on  to  tell.  "  Down  the 
Wilhelmstrasse  went,  first,  hundreds  of  children,  dressed  in  white,  wali<;- 
ing  three  and  three,  strewing  the  roads  with  flowers,  and  many  of  them 
with  their  tears,  too  —  genuine,  burning  tears,  gushing  fresh  from  a 
bleeding  heart  —  such  tears  as  pure  affection  weeps  —  such  tears  as  angels 
might  have  shed  beside  the  tomb  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea  when  it  re- 
ceived its  first  occupant.  A  missionary  carried  an  open  Bible  on  a 
cushion.  The  coflin  was  borne  in  turn  b}'  twelve  missionary  students, 
twelve  Bohemians,  and  twelve  students  of  theology.  All  the  clergy  of 
Berlin,  without  exception,  followed.  Thousands  of  thousands  of  all 
ranks  and  stations,  in  a  line  which  seemed  to  have  no  end,  took  part  in 
the  procession ;  many  had  travelled  far  to  be  there,  and  not  a  few  faces 


AND     I  X  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  X  .  225 

bore  evidence  that  tliey  felt  as  if  conveying  a  father  to  the  grave.  On 
the  coffin  were  written  the  words,  'I  live,  and  ye  shall  live  also.'  That 
great  city  seemed  to  many  of  us  lonely  the  first  night  that  Jaenicke  slept 
before  the  gates." 

To  what  purpose,  we  thought  on  hearing  this  narrative,  does  the  Most 
High  at  times  send  men  to  tower  so  far  above  common  mortals,  and  tlica 
to  die  like  ordinary  individuals?  Perhaps  to  keep  us  humble,  when  we 
see  that  we  have  been  so  far  surpassed.  Perhaps  to  spur  us  on  to  greater 
exertions  than  we  have  ever  yet  made.  Perhaps  to  reveal  his  own  wise 
sovereignty,  for  he  doeth  as  he  will  iu  the  armies  of  heaven  and  among 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth ;  none  can  stay  his  hand,  uor  say  unto  him, 
"What  doest  thou  ? 

John  Jaenicke,  whom  we  have  thus  introduced  to  our  readers,  was 
ordained  pastor  of  the  Bohemian  or  Betldehcms  church  in  1779.  At 
that  time,  however,  he  was  only  assistant ;  but  from  the  year  1792,  when 
the  smouldering  fires  of  revolution  sent  their  scorching  blast  over  Ger- 
many, up  till  his  decease  on  the  21st  of  July,  1827,  he  was  sole  pastor. 
There  is,  however,  a  long  tale  to  tell,  both  about  the  church  aud  about 
the  pastor,  previous  to  1779. 

TUB    BOHEMIANS   IN    BERLIN. 

The  doctrines  of  the  Reformation  were  at  one  time  predominant  ia 
Bohemia,  the  richest  counts  and  uobles  being  among  the  ranks  of  the 
Protestants.  The  thirty  years'  war,  however,  aud  the  intrigues  of  the 
Jesuits,  brought  about  a  counter-revolution,  which  is  one  of  the  blackest 
pages  in  the  world's  history.  The  uobles  died  on  the  scafibld  without  a 
crime  being  proved  against  them,  and  their  lands  were  confiscated. 
Hundreds  forsook  all  they  had  in  the  world — wives,  children,  lauds — ■ 
and  fled  to  other  kingdoms,  where  they  could  fare  like  the  ravens,  and 
the  sparrows,  and  the  lilies,  which  God  feeds  and  clothes  without  store- 
Louse  and  without  care.  Those  that  remained  at  home  were  compelled 
15 


226  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

to  become  Koman  Catholics.  Still  at  midnight,  among  the  lonely  gleus, 
the  dragoons  sometimes  discovered  bands  who  had  met  to  sing  and  pray 
and  commemoi'ate  the  dying  love  of  their  Lord.  In  the  time  of  Leopold 
I.  and  Charles  VL  of  Austria,  the  persecution  had  become  intolerable. 
Reading  the  word  of  God,  or  even  possessing  a  Bible,  singing  a  psalm, 
partaking  of  both  bread  and  wine  in  the  communion,  were  reckoned 
crimes  worthy  of  a  punishment  more  severe  than  that  of  murder.  Those 
who  wished  to  emigrate  were  uot  allowed.  Children  were  torn  from 
their  parents  to  be  educated  as  raj>ists.  Parents  were  thrown  into  prison 
until  they  became  Eoinan  Catholics.  If  they  wished  to  escape,  they 
must  smuggle  themselves  over  the  frontiers  in  the  night,  and  act  as  the 
Russian  Jews  now  do  to  escape  from  the  conscription.  From  about  1720, 
till  1740,  scarcely  a  night  passed  that  some  did  not  cross  the  borders  into 
Saxony,  which  was  at  that  time  a  land  of  liberty. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  Zittau,  iive  Bohemian  families  got  leave  to 
settle.  That  was  near  the  Austrian  frontier.  In  the  year  1726,  a  clergj'- 
man,  who  had  fled  from  the  persecution,  came  to  settle  with  them.  Ho 
was  a  faithful  man,  and  in  six  years  we  find  the  number  of  exiles,  which 
had  gathered  around  him,  increased  to  about  five  hundred.  Pastor 
Liberda,  for  that  was  his  name,  preached  so  that  sinners  were  awakened 
and  converted,  and  those  who  had  been  zealous  Protestants  they  knew 
not  why,  learned  to  love  the  Lord  Jesus  and  to  lead  holy  lives.  The 
country  people  came  from  far  and  near,  and  the  road  was  thronged  on 
the  Sunday  morning  with  pious  worshippers,  going  to  hear  the  man  who 
could  tell  the  secrets  of  their  hearts  and  of  their  houses  from  the  pulpit. 
Roman  Catholics  who  came,  said  that  with  their  own  clergy  they  must 
tell  the  priest  their  sins  before  they  got  absolution ;  but  here  was  a  man 
who  could  tell  them  their  sins  —  even  such  as  they  had  not  thought 
of  before  —  and  could  tell  them  too  far  more  about  the  tiiie  source  of 
absolution.  The  Protestants  who  came  to  hear  Pastor  Liberda  went 
home  complaining  of  their  own  clergy,  whom  they  had  heard  preaching 
from  childhood,  and  yet  had  never  been  told  by  them  the  glorious  truths 


A  N  D    I  N  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  12  I 

of  pardon  and  acceptance  through  faith  in  the  blood  of  Christ  —  at  lea.st 
not  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  them  understand  how  the  chief  of  sin- 
ners could  be  justified  simply  by  behev'ing  on  the  Saviour. 

After  six  years  of  rest  and  refreshment,  the  place  became  too  small,  and 
above  seven  hundred  of  the  Bohemian  exiles  rose  to  seek  some  other 
hospitable  home.  On  two  carts  they  laid  the  sick  and  infirm,  and  in 
forty-eight  wheel-barrows,  the  children  and  the  goods.  After  much  wan- 
dering, man}'  crosses,  much  prayer,  and  many  answers  to  prayer,  they 
arrived  at  last  in  Berlin.  When  all  seemed  dark  around  them  on  their 
way  thither,  the}'  united  their  voices  in  the  Bohemian  language,  and 
sang  the  42d  Psalm,  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  Still  trust 
in  God.  I  shall  ^^et  praise  him."  And  in  brighter  days  the  mountains 
echoed  back  the  strains  of  the  116th  Psalm,  "I  love  the  Lord,  because 
he  hath  heard  the  voice  of  my  supplication." 

The  king  gave  them  leave  to  reside  in  the  metropolis  of  Prussia,  but 
ho  could  not  support  them.  Many  a  trial  they  were  required  to  endure, 
and  they  learned  the  practical  meaning  of  the  declaration,  ""V^Hiom  the 
Lord  loveth  he  chastcneth."  Morning  and  evening  they  all  met  together 
for  reading  the  Scriptures  and  prayer ;  during  the  day  they  toiled  hard, 
and  when  the  Sunday  came,  after  the  good  old  Hussite  customs,  inherited 
by  them  from  their  Waldensian  fiithers,  they  remembered  the  Sabbath- 
day  to  keep  it  holy.  The  king  eventually  ordered  thirty-eight  houses  to 
be  built  for  them,  that  they  might  live  together.  By  diligence  and  the 
divine  blessing,  they  became  rich ;  but  in  proportion  as  worldly  means 
increased,  their  piety  decreased,  and  after  the  death  of  their  pastor  Liberda, 
in  1742,  all  manner  of  quarrels  broke  out,  till  at  last  the  congregation 
divided  into  three  parties  —  Lutheran,  Ecformed,  and  ITerruhutter  Bo- 
hemians. 

jaenicke's  early  life. 
Afiiong  the  Bohemian  settlers  was  a  family  named  Jaenicke.     The 
father  was  by  profession  a  weaver.     However  other  families  may  have 


228  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  X  T  E  K  T  A  I  MI  E  N  T 

decreased  in  piety,  in  this  liouse  all  went  on  in  tlic  good  old  way. 
Family  worship  every  morning  and  evening,  the  Sunda}-  conscientiously 
observed,  hard  work  during  the  week,  no  idle  hands  tolerated  —  these 
wore  some  of  the  "  rules  of  the  house."  The  mother  used  to  say  often 
to  her  children  and  neighbours :  "  When  we  served  God  in  the  glens  aijd 
woods,  and  among  the  rocks,  and  could  not  even  venture  to  read  the 
Bible  at  home,  I  vowed  often  to  the  Lord  Jesus  that  I  would  be  content 
with  a  crust  of  dry  bread  and  a  drink  of  cold  water,  if  we  could  only 
enjoy  the  Lord's  Supper  as  it  was  appointed ;  and  now  we  have  a  dwell- 
ing, a  church,  and  schools  of  our  own,  what  shall  we  render  to  the  Lord 
for  all  his  goodness?"  It  was  in  this  spirit  that  she  trained  her  five 
children. 

AVhen  the  son,  John,  had  been  long  enough  at  school,  liis  father  took 
him  home  and  taught  him  weaving.  After  he  had  learned  his  trade,  he 
set  ofi",  according  to  German  custom,  to  improve  himself  by  working  in 
other  towns  as  a  journeyman.  A  father's  prayers,  and  a  mother's  tears 
had  not  been  in  vain,  for  the  j'oung  man  sought  work  only  where  he 
knew  he  could  keep  his  Sabbath,  and,  on  the  day  of  rest,  he  sought  such 
preachers  as  proclaimed  the  gospel.  He  knew  that  he  was,  like  all  man- 
kind, a  sinner,  and  that  Christ  is  a  Saviour;  but  he  had  never  felt 
burdened  under  sin,  and  fled  to  Jesus  for  relief;  he  prayed,  however,  and 
read  the  Bible  regularly ;  he  led  a  correct  and  consistent  life,  and  thought 
there  was  not  any  great  fear  of  his  state,  and  that  if  all  the  world  were 
like  himself,  a  Saviour  of  sinners  might  be  dispensed  with. 

One  Sunday,  while  listening  as  usual  very  attentively  to  the  sermon, 
the  preacher  said :  "  Is  there  any  one  here  who  thinks  that  he  is  not  a 
sinner?  Consider  how  great  a  sin  it  is,  that  from  youth  up  you  have  not 
loved  your  Saviour  above  everything  else." 

The  young  weaver  left  the  church  like  a  wounded  roe  with  the  arrow 
quivering  in  the  wound.  lie  hastened  out  to  a  shady  retreat,  and,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  poured  out  an  earnest  prayer  from  a  heart  that 
felt  its  own  need  of  a  Saviour.     He  had  heard  that  what  he  had  thousrht 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  229 

to  be  his  great  honour,  and  an  advantage  above  others,  namely,  his  own 
self-righteousness,  was  a  great  sin.  His  proud  heart,  which  had  not  felt 
the  need  of  Jesus  as  a  sinner's  friend,  cried  aloud  for  pardon,  and  when 
he  rose  from  his  knees,  he  felt  that  he  had  obtained  mercy  of  God.  He 
sought  the  acquaintance  of  the  pastor  who  had  opened  this  door  for  him 
into  the  mystery  of  the  gospel,  and  the  good  man  rejoiced  as  angels  do 
over  a  sinner  who  repents.  On  nearer  acquaintance,  the  pastor  thought 
that  something  better  than  a  weaver  could  be  made  out  of  him ;  at  least 
a  schoolmaster.  So  when  the  work  was  done  in  the  evening,  the  young 
weaver  found  himself  sitting  with  the  pastor  learning  Latin.  In  a  short 
time  he  was  able  to  pass  an  lamination  —  possibly  not  a  very  severe  one 
—  and  was  immediately  appointed  schoolmaster  in  the  place  where  he 
had  first  been  led  to  the  Saviour.  He  had  not  long,  however,  filled  his 
new  post  till  the  congregation  grumbled,  and  thought  that  there  was  no 
need  for  both  a  pastor  and  a  schoolmaster ;  the  pastor  might  fill  both 
230sts  as  he  had  done  before.  The  young  schoolmaster  accordingly  being 
dismissed,  returned  to  his  father's  house  in  Berlin. 

He  now  learned  a  little  more  Latin  and  Greek,  and,  thinking  himself 
very  well  advanced,  he  started  for  Halle  to  study  theology.  A  j^astor 
whom  he  visited  on  the  road,  and  who  examined  the  state  of  his  know- 
ledge, advised  him  not  to  go  to  the  University,  but  to  the  Orphan-house 
in  Ilalle.  But  when  he  came  there,  however,  he  learnt  that,  as  he  was 
now  above  twenty  years  of  age,  and  did  not  know  as  much  as  the  small 
children  in  the  institution,  he  could  not  be  received  at  all,  and  must 
return  to  Berlin. 

A  year  later,  we  find  him  filling  a  situation  as  schoolmaster  in  Dresden. 
In  that  city  there  was  at  that  time  a  pious  physician  named  Demiani, 
who  had  private  tutors  giving  instruction  to  his  son,  to  prepare  him  for 
the  University.  Young  Jaenicke  was  invited  to  take  part  in  these  les- 
sons. His  patron  being  of  opinion  that  all  study  without  prayer  is  no 
use,  came  occasionally  and  joined  in  earnest  supplication  with  the  two 
youths  fur  a  blesiing  on  tlieir  s-tudics.    A  nobleman  was  eventually  found 


230  PORTFOLIO  OF  ENTERTAINMENT 

■willing  to  bear  the  college  expenses  for  tlie  young  Bohemian  schoolmas- 
ter ;  and  in  his  twenty-sixth  year  he  entered  the  University  of  Leipzic. 

JAENICKE   AS    PASTOR. 

Five  years  passed  over,  wliile  Jaenicke  pursued  his  studies  at  Leipzic, 
and  many  a  new  view  he  obtained,  and  many  an  old  opinion  he  learned 
to  lay  aside.  lie  had  been  often  on  the  very  verge  of  making  shipwreck 
of  his  faith,  but  One  that  led  him  by  a  vray  he  knew  not  drew  him 
gently  back  into  the  fold.  This  time  of  storm  and  doubt  and  trial  being 
past,  we  find  him,  in  his  thirty-first  year,  oriaincd  as  assistant  pastor  in 
the  church  where  he  had  been  baptized. 

We  have  thus  arrived  at  that  important  period  of  Jaenicke's  life  when 
he  entered  upon  the  oflice  of  the  Christian  ministry. 

The  thousands  assembled  round  his  open  grave,  in  1827,  felt  that  they 
■wei'e  words  of  truth  which  were  then  pronounced  in  the  funeral  oration. 
"^Vhen  worldly  wisdom,"  said  the  speaker,  "raised  its  haughty  head, 
and  the  prince  of  darkness  triumphed  as  if  the  field  were  all  his  own ; 
when  the  shadow  of  death  brooded  over  the  church,  and  the  preaching 
of  the  cross  of  Christ  seemed  to  be  a  stumbling-block  and  foolishness ; 
it  was  then  that  this  polished  quiver  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord  shone 
brightest.  The  more  he  was  mocked  and  maligned,  the  louder  and 
clearer  did  he  proclaim  pardon  and  full  redempt*ion,  in  the  one  name  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God.  Yes,  when  in  the  city  he  stood  almost 
alone,  waving  the  banner  of  the  cross,  his  solitary  post  on  the  watch- 
tower  made  him  only  more  fearless  and  undaunted  in  25roclaiming,  '  I 
know  nothing  among  you  but  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified !'  While 
he  stood,  the  candlestick  was  not  entirely  removed  out  of  its  place.  All 
who  came  to  him,  seeking  for  peace,  were  shown  first  their  complete 
innate  depravity,  and  the  wrath  to  come  to  which  they  were  exposed ; 
they  were  then,  with  all  their  sins  and  demerits,  pointed  to  the  Lamb  of 
God,  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  and  to  the  faithful  say- 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  231 

LUg,  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  '  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come  into  the  world 
to  save  sinners.' " 

But  let  us  look  closer  at  the  nature  of  Jaeuicke's  work.  lie  found 
that  in  his  church  the  people  had  merely  an  educational  Christianity. 
They  sung  the  hymns  of  their  fathers,  and  heard  the  doctrines  of  the 
gospel  gladly,  but  their  hearts  were  far  from  God.  All  this  was  mourn- 
ful enough,  hut  the  spirit  of  the  times  had  crept  over  even  the  sons  of 
faithful  martyrs  and  confessors,  for,  at  the  period  of  which  we  write,  a 
native  of  Berlin  and  an  infidel  were  synonymous  terms.  Jaenicke'3 
first  aim  was  to  bring  the  people  more  in  contact  with  the  word  of  God. 
Accordingly,  in  addition  to  the  usual  services  of  the  Sunday,  he  intro- 
duced another  service  early  in  the  morning,  and  on  the  Monday  evening 
he  repeated  his  sermon.  His  style  of  2:)reaching  was  earnest,  and  he 
strove  only  that  he  might  be  understood.  He  drew  his  arguments  pri- 
marily from  the  word  of  God,  but  as  he  knew  that  human  authority 
weighed  considerably  with  his  audience,  he  took  care  to  bring  that  also 
to  bear  on  his  theme.  On  some  theme?,  however,  he  could  find  few 
authorities.  The  doctrine  of  the  eternal  punishment  of  the  wicked,  for 
example,  was  denied  at  that  time  in  almost  all  the  German  universities. 
But  in  his  teacber,  the  famous  Crusius,  Jaenicke  found  support,  and 
would  often  quote  his  words,  "Eternal  life,  eternal  death,  lie  on  the 
scales ;  the  one  or  the  other  must  be  our  lot.  If  the  one  is  true,  so  is 
the  other;  the  evidence  for  both  is  exactly  the  same."  Thus  after 
having  previously  proved  his  doctrines  out  of  the  Scripture,  he  weighed 
human  evidence  against  human  authority,  that  they  might  counterbal- 
ance each  other,  and  the  word  of  God  be  left  free  to  speak  or  decide. 

When  the  first  French  revolution  broke  out,  crowds  of  people  came 
to  his  Monday  evening's  lecture.  The  maliciously  disposed  brought 
pepper  in  snuff-boxes,  which  they  handed  freely  round,  in  order  to  dis- 
turb the  congregation.  The  church  required  to  be  defended  by  soldiers, 
to  preserve  some  degree  of  order.  At  last  Jaenicke  was  obliged  to  give 
up  his  weekly  lecture ;    but   the  services  ou  the  Sabbath  continued  as 


161  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  N  T  E  T,  T  A  I  X  M  E  N  T 

before.  It  may  well  be  supposed  that  the  word  of  God  from  his  mouth 
did  not  return  back  emptj'.  Once  iu  company,  where  one  of  the  king's 
privy  councillors  was  present,  he  was  made  the  subject  of  some  severe 
criticism  and  mockery:  when  the  courtier  was  asked  his  opinion,  he 
replied:  "I  have  seen  many  who  stand  and  show  us  the  way,  but  Jaen- 
icke  takes  us  by  the  hand,  and  goes  with  us  in  the  right  direction." 
Four  officers  met  Mm  one  night,  coming  home  from  his  toils,  and  recog- 
nizing him,  began  to  rail  at  him  as  a  fool  and  a  madman.  Jaenicke 
turned  calmly  round,  and  made  a  rejily  which  they  never  forgot,  and  ere 
many  mouths  had  passed,  all  the  four  ofRcors  were  kneeling  with  him  in 
bis  room  iu  pra^-er  —  converted  men.  Jaenicke's  reply  had  pierced  the 
heart  of  one  of  these  officers,  and  he  had  had  no  rest  till  he  saw  the 
others  coming,  with  himself,  aud  learning  the  way  of  life.  This  was 
not  a  solitary  instance ;  many  individuals  were  brought  to  experience  a 
change  of  heart,  some  suddenly,  and  many  almost  imperceptibly,  by 
means  of  his  earnest  preaching  and  his  holy  life.  When  the  war  had 
set  its  iron  heel  on  Prussia's  brightest  hopes,  the  number  of  his  adhe- 
rents increased  gradually  to  a  multitude  —  national  affliction  having  done 
its  beneficial  work. 

'  After  one  of  the  great  victories  over  the  French,  the  king  gave  a 
splendid  dinner  to  his  superior  officers  iu  Berlin.  When  the  wine  had 
circulated  freely,  no  theme  appeared  so  popular  among  the  gallant  com- 
pany as  the  newest  and  raciest  anecdotes  calculated  to  make  Jaenicke 
ridiculous.  When  this  conversation  had  continued  for  some  time,  a 
general  rose  and  asked  the  assembled  company  to  name  the  man  whoso 
services  had  most  conduced  to  gain  the  victory  which  they  were  cele- 
brating. Many  an  answer  was  given.  At  last  the  general  said :  ^'  I  will 
tell  you,  gentlemen.  We  have  only  played,  but  the  man  who  really 
fought  and  gained  the  conquest  was  the  man  on  whom  so  muck  ridicule 
has  been  poured  to-night.  He  gathered  his  congregation  three  times 
every  Sunday,  and  three  times  during  the  week,  to  pray  to  the  Lord  of 
hosts  for  a  blessing  on  our  army;  aud  his  prayers  have  prevailed.     Gen- 


AND     I  N  S  T  n  V  C  T  I  0  N  .  233 

tlemen,  does  sucli  a  man  deserve  to  be  mocked?  Does  a  man  so  faithful 
to  Lis  God  and  to  his  king  not  merit  from  us  the  highest  honour  we  can 
bestow?" 

Jaenicke  lived  to  see  tlie  war  brought  to  an  end,  and  to  witness  better 
days  in  the  churcli  in  Berlin.  Much  of  tliis  improvement  was  to  be 
attributed  to  his  own  exertions ;  but  the  great  Master  had  awakened 
other  labourers,  who  saw  eye  to  eye  with  bim.  Still  Jaenicke  continued, 
after  the  memorable  year  1815,  to  preach  as  he  had  done  before.  Taking 
for  granted  that  there  were  some  true  followers  of  the  Lamb  in  his  audi- 
ence, he  addressed  hearty  words  of  consolation,  and  warning,  and 
encouragement  to  tliem ;  but  remembering  also  that  the  majority  of  his 
hearers  were,  probably,  unconverted  people,  he  made  it  the  great  aim  of 
his  life  to  bring  them  to  Christ.  He  reasoned  with  tbem,  talked  with 
them,  told  anecdotes,  and  made  comments  on  the  cuiTent  events  of  the 
time,  thus  bringing  his  gospel  message  to  bear  on  the  daily  life  of  the 
people. 

TliC  beginning  of  the  present  century  was  the  cradle  of  missions;  and 
every  one  who  was  really  in  earnest  with  his  work  at  home,  took  part 
also  in  sending  the  gospel  to  the  heathen.  "What  then  was  Jaenicke's 
department  of  this  work?  He  opened  the  first  institution  for  the  train- 
ing of  missionaries.  It  was  on  the  first  day  of  February,  1800,  that  he 
^received  seven  young  men  into  his  house,  to  train  them  for  missionary 
work  among  the  heathen.  Tlie  next  year  a  similar  institution  was 
opened  at  Gosport,  in  England ;  in  1810  one  was  opened  in  Ilolland ; 
and  in  1816  the  great  institution  at  Basle.  The  expense  of  Jaenicke's 
school  was  borne  by  the  well-known  friend  of  missions,  Schirding,  the 
keeper  of  the  woods  and  forests  in  the  electorate  of  Saxony.  Scarcely 
had  this  good  man  been  employed  to  provide  for  the  opening  of  the 
institution,  when  it  pleased  the  God  of  missions  to  leave  Jaenicke  to 
expect  the  support  of  the  establishment  directly  from  Himself  Schird- 
ing met  with  pecuniary  losses,  and  the  inspector  had  either  to  give  up 
his  undertaking  in  the  tenth  month  of  its  existence,  or  else  try  the  power 


2ii  r  OUT  FOLIO   OF   F^"  tfht  a  ix  m  i:x  t 

of  prayer.  His  faith  was  put  to  the  test;  hut  in  the  first  mouth  after  he 
was  thrown  on  his  own  resoui'ces,  he  received  thirty  (.lolkirs  more  than 
he  rerpiired  for  current  expenses.  lie  was  not  the  man  to  give  up  what 
he  had  ouce  learned  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  Divine  will ;  and  be 
eveutually  received  support  from  England,  from  Holland,  from  Switzer- 
land, and  from  other  sources,  where  he  had  never  expected  it.  The  mis- 
sionary institution  flourishes  still  in  Eerliu. 

Jaeuicke  was  a  strict  Lutheran,  hut  he  was  not  sectarian.  He  received 
students  who  loved  the  Lord  Jesus,  whatever  their  other  views  on  eccle- 
siastical matters  might  have  been,  and  he  strove  to  unlock  the  truths  of 
the  Bible,  that  they  might  in  going  out  among  the  heathen  bring  this 
treasure,  and  only  this,  in  their  hands.  He  simply  trained  the  mission- 
aries for  their  work,  while  others  formed  societies  to  employ  them.  In 
the  twenty-seven  years  that  he  presided  over  the  Berlin  Missionary  Insti- 
tution, he  thus  trained  above  a  hundred  missionaries  for  the  heathen  and 
for  the  Jews.  Who  has  not  heard  of  Christian  Africaner?  It  was  one 
of  Jaenicke's  scholars,  AllM'Ocht,  who  first  ventured  into  his  camp  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  him,  and  it  was  Ebnor,  anotlier  scholar  of  Jaenicke's, 
who  baptized  him.  To  relate  what  the  missionaries  trained  in  this  in- 
stitution have  accomplished,  would  be  to  give  a  history  of  missions  in 
the  present  century.  Rhenius,  of  Tinnevelly,  in  India,  who  baptized 
such  a  multitude  of  converts  in  tliat  province:  GutzlaiF,  the  Chinese 
missionary;  Nicolayson,  of  Jerusalem,  wore  among  the  names  of  those 
who  learned  in  Jaenicke's  mission  school. 

When  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  was  founded  in  London, 
liberal  assistance  was  sent  to  Jaeuicke,  whose  missionary  zeal  was  known 
in  England,  and  who  gladly  undertook  to  forward  that  great  work.  A 
vast  inducement  to  activity  in  this  labour  was  the  edict  of  toleration 
Avliich  Joseph  of  Austria  had  issued  in  1781.  By  means  of  this,  the 
Protestants  in  Bohemia  and  Moravia  were  permitted  once  more  to  wor- 
ship God  according  to  the  dictates  of  their  conscience.  Thousands  had 
embraced  the  opportunity  of  declaring  themselves  to  be  Protestants,  and 


A\D   I  N  ST  n  r  r  T  10  N.  -■>■■> 

demanding  tlic  privilege  of  toleration,  lint  tlieir  Bibles  liad  Ijceii  nearly 
all  burned,  and  Jaenieke  rejoiecd,  tlierelore,  to  have  an  o]i[iortunity  of 
sending  the  word  of  God  once  more  to  the  land  of  his  fathers.  Thus 
arose  the  Berlin  Bible  Socict}-,  which  still  continues  to  scatter  the  word 
of  God  so  richly-.  A  few  years  later  he  founded  the  Berlin  Tract  So- 
ciety, which  has  since  then  printed  and  circulated  above  five  millions  of 
tracts;  and,  in  both  of  these  societies,  he  laboured  indefatigably  till  the 
time  of  his  death. 

It  would  bo  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  by  all  these  exertions,  and 
by  his  great  kindness  to  the  poor,  Jaenieke  had  become  a  universally 
popular  man.  He  was,  it  is  true,  beloved  by  all  who  loved  the  Lord 
Jesus.  But  the  talent  and  the  wit  and  the  learning  of  the  world  could 
never  forget  that  this  man's  whole  life  was  an  uninterrupted  call  to  come 
to  that  Saviour  whom  they  were  appai'ontly  resolved  not  to  sect.  As 
Jacnicke's  end  approached,  his  mind  became  more  serene,  and  his  affec- 
tions fixed  ever  more  and  more  on  Ilim  who  had  loved  him  and  washed 
liim  from  his  sins.  On  his  eightieth  birth-daj'  he  gathered  some  friends 
around  him,  and  delivered  a  sermon  from  the  words,  "Looking  unto 
Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith."  A  few  days  later  he  \&y 
down  on  what  was  to  be  his  death-bed.  "I  have  Jesus  with  me,"  ho 
said.  "  I  have  found  him  faithful  all  my  life  through,  and  I  will  trust 
his  promise  now.  He  cries,  I  live,  and  ye  shall  live  also."  At  another 
time  he  said :  "  I  wish  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ ;  and  what  makes 
me  so  joyful  now  is  my  confidence  in  the  work  which  Christ  has  done 
for  me,  when  be  took  away  all  my  sin.  The  doing  and  the  dying  of 
Christ !  that  is  my  hope."  As  his  end  approached,  he  began  to  sing  a 
hymn  of  triumph,  but  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  second  verse;  the 
rest  he  may  have  sung  above,  for  he  knew  that  to  be  absent  from  the 
body  is  to  be  present  with  the  Lord. 

Eeader,  is  not  such  a  dying  hour  of  sweet  peace  and  well-grounded 
assurance,  worth  living  for? 


236 


PORTFOLIO     OF    ENTERTAINMENT 


fk  §1dbUcu  ^libcr ;  nr,  the  (hsv^t  flf  ;i  |)«gutuot  |;imil2. 


E"  the  history  of  the  French  nation,  the  reigns  of  Francis 
n.  and  his  successor  Charles  IX.,  are  mainly  remaricable 
only  for  the  persecutions  which  were  actively  and  relent- 
lessly carried  on  against  the  Huguenots,  as  the  Protest- 
ants of  that  country  were  called ;  and  which,  while  they 
entailed  heavy  suiferings  on  the  persecuted,  plunged  the 
country  itself  into  anarchy  and  strife,  and,  for  a  long  series  of  years,  im- 
peded its  prosperity. 

During  this  long  season  of  national  and  domestic  confusion,  when,  in 
a  great  number  of  instances,  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  met  with 
their  litei'al  accomplishment,  "A  man's  foes  shall  be  they  of  his  own 
household"  —  were  seen  bright  examples  of  endurance  for  righteousness' 
sake ;  of  taking  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  goods  ;  of  faithfulness  to  Christ 
and  his  gospel,  even  unto  death  ;  and  remarkable  instances,  also,  of  divine 
interposition  in  the  preservation  of  others  who  counted  not  their  lives 
dear  unto  them,  so  that  they  might  finish  their  course  with  jo}-.  In  fill- 
ing up,  therefore,  the  minor  details  of  events  recorded  in  historj',  we  seek 
to  do  justice  to  the  brave  hearts  whose  manifold  temptations  and  trials 
prepared  them,  we  trust,  for  exalted  honour  in  that  glorious  kingdom, 
where  those  who  have  suftered  for  Christ  shall  reign  with  him ;  as  well 
as  to  show  that  God  has  a  providential  care  for  his  people  —  that  he  not 
only  can,  but  does,  watch  over  those  who  trust  in  him,  protecting  them 
from  the  fury  of  their  enemies,  and  rescuing  them  when  all  hope  of 
deliverance  from  man  seems  to  have  terminated.  Still  more  is  it  our 
object  to  impress  upon  our  readers  the  privileges  which  as  Protestants 
they  enjoy,  and  the  wisdom  of  jealously  guarding  them. 


AND    INSTRUCTION.  237 

In  the  deepening  twilight  of  a  summor's  evening,  a  family'  group  was 
assembled  in  a  room  of  a  chateau,  a  few  leagues  distant  from  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Loire.  It  was  a  handsome  apartment,  containing  rich  old 
furniture  which  showed  that,  whatever  might  be  the  present  circum- 
stances of  the  owners  of  the  chateau,  they  had  not  been  unused  to  the 
luxuries  of  life.  There  was  a  lamp  on  the  table,  fed  with  purest  oil, 
which  shed  a  cheerful  light  around,  by  which  also  might  have  been  seen 
that  the  single  casement  of  the  room  was  strongly  shuttered  and  barred 
—  an  evidence,  this,  of  insecurity,  if  not  of  desired  secrecy,  or  anticipated 
danger. 

The  occupants  of  the  apartment  were  females,  with  the  exception  of 
two  boys,  the  elder  of  whom  had  scarcely  passed  childhood.  But  the 
mirth  of  childhood  was  absent,  and  had  given  place  to  an  aspect  of 
gravity  on  the  countenance  of  the  elder,  who,  seated  on  the  floor,  sus- 
tained the  head  of  the  sleeping  brother  on  his  knee,  watching  over  him, 
apparently  with  tender  affection  and  jealous  care.  The  slumbering  child 
was  restless,  and,  occasionally,  the  movement  of  his  lips,  had  they  been 
watched,  miglit  have  betrayed  tlie  current  of  his  dreaming  thoughts :  he 
dreamt  of  his  mother. 

The  lady  to  whom  this  title  belonged  was  the  more  matronly  of  four 
who,  seated  by  the  table,  were  varibusly  occupied.  She  was  of  middle 
age,  and,  in  spite  of  a  pallid  cheek  and  anxious  eye,  retained  traces  of 
exceeding  loveliness.  She  was  reading  to  her  companions,  in  low  and 
slightly  tremulous  tones,  from  a  book  before  her.  Let  us  listen  to  the 
words,  as  they  softly  fall  from  her  lips  :  — 

"And  what  shall  I  more  say?  for  the  time  would  foil  me  to  tell  of 
Gideon,  and  of  Barak,  and  of  Samson,  and  of  Jephthae ;  of  David  also, 
and  of  Samuel,  and  of  the  prophets ;  who  through  faith  subdued  king- 
doms, wrought  righteousness,  obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouth  of 
lions,  quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped  the  edge  of  the  sword,  out 
of  weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  turned  to  flight 


238  poBxroLio   of   entertainmext 

tlie  armies  of  the  aliens.  "Women  received  tlieir  dead  raised  to  life 
again  — '  " 

"My  father,  my  dear  murdered  father!"  exclaimed  a  younger  female, 
who  was  seated  beside  the  reader,  and  whose  voice,  though  soft  and 
musical,  was  choked  and  broken  by  the  sore  distress  which  agitated  her 
countenance,  and  filled  her  dark  eyes  with  tears.  She  had  been  em- 
ployed in  needlework,  but  as  the  words  escaped  her  lips  involuntarily,  she 
ceased  from  her  occupation,  and  wept  aloud. 

"Be  comforted,  my  dear  friend,"  said  the  other,  "let  us  think  of  Id/n 
as  happily  escaped  from  trial  and  sorrow,  and  now  among  those  who 
'came  out  of  great  tribulation,'  and  of  whom  it  is  said  that  'they  are 
before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and  niglit  in  his  temple ; 
.  .  .  they  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more,  neither  shall  the  suu 
lioht  on  them,  nor  any  heat.  For  the  Lamb  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the 
throne  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of 
waters ;  and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes.'  " 

The  words  apparently  struck  a  responsive  chord  in  the  mourner's  heart. 
She  raised  herself,  and  by  a  strong  effort  resumed  the  work  which  had 
been  thus  briefly  interrupted.  Her  tears  had  not  entirely  been  subdued; 
but  they  were  accompanied  by  a  rapturous  smile.  "It  is  even  so,"  she 
said ;  "  and  we  should  rather  rejoice  when  tliose  we  love  have  escaped 
the  malice  of  their  enemies,  who  may  torture  and  kill  the  poor  body,  but 
liave  nothing  more  that  thej  can  do.  Pardon  me,  madam,  this  interrup- 
tion ;  will  j-ou  read  on  ?" 

"  'Women  received  their  dead  raised  to  life  again,'  "  resumed  the  first 
speaker;  "'and  others  were  tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance,  that 
they  might  obtain  a  better  resurrection ;  and  others  had  trial  of  cruel 
inockings  and  scourgings,  yea,  moreover,  of  bonds  and  imprisonment: 
the}'  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn  asunder,  were  tempted,  were  slain 
with  the  sword ;  they  wandered  about  in  sheep-skins  and  goat-skins ; 
being  destitute,  afflicted,  tormented,  ^of  whom  the  world  was  not  worth}-;) 


AND     I  X  S  T  R  r  C  T  1  0  X  .  23S 

tliey  wandered  in  deserts  and  in  mountains,  and  in  dens  and  caves  of  tbf 
eartli.' " 

The  voice  of  the  reader  vi'as  once  more  interrupted  b}^  a  faint  cry,  ar 
of  alarm,  from  the  younger  of  two  girls  whom  we  have  not  yet  intro 
duced,  and  who  had  sat  listening  to  their  mother's  words. 

"Henrietta!"  exclaimed  the  elder  sister,  almost  impatiently,  "this  is 
the  seventh  time  within  the  last  hour  that  you  have  started  from  your 
seat.     "What  do  you  hear  or  dread  ?" 

"Xotliing,  dear  sister,  nothing  just  now.  I  am  very  weak  and  foolish. 
I  thought  I  heard  —  but  it  must  have  been  only  fancy.  Oh!  I  wish  we 
were  anywhere  else  !"'  and  the  trembler  found  relief  in  tears. 

"xVnywhere  else,  Henrietta?"  said  the  mother. 

"Ah  !  no,  no,"  replied  Henrietta,  speaking  rapidly ;  "  no,  dear  mother, 
I  did  not  mean  anywhere  else.  I  was  not  thinking  of  the  convents 
where  they  say  we  poor  little  Huguenots  are  to  be  shut  up." 

"  When  the}'  can  take  us,"  interposed  her  sister,  with  a  smile  partly 
of  scorn,  it  may  be,  and  partly  of  indignation. 

There  was  a  striking  difference  between  the  two  sisters.  We  fancy 
we  must  have  seen  their  portraits;  or,  if  not  theirs,  portraits  which  may 
pass  for  those  of  Louisa  and  Henrietta,  daughters  of  a  noble  family  of 
French  Huguenots  of  the  sixteenth  century'.  We  have  loved  to  gaze  at 
them,  and  to  think  of  their  history. 

Of  one,  the  younger,  whose  age  could  scarcely  have  exceeded  twelve 
years,  the  chief  characteristics  are  gentleness  and  resignation,  expressed 
by  a  timid  downcast  eye,  and  a  pensive  smile.  The  form  is  slight  and 
fragile ;  the  countenance  eminently  lovely.  Not  more  lovely,  however, 
than  that  of  the  sister,  around  whom  her  fair  arm  is  folded,  as  though 
seeking  support  from  her  superior  strength  of  body  and  firmness  of  mind. 
There  may  be  a  difference  of  two  or  three  years  between  them ;  and  the 
quick  penetrating  glance  of  the  dark  eye,  shaded  and  softened  by  the 
long  black  eyelashes  of  the  elder  sister,  together  with  the  decision  which 
lurk  ai'oLiud  her  lips,  tell  of  the  will  and  power  to  dare  and  do. 


240  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  X  T  E  11  T  A  I  X  M  E  X  T 

"Wlieu  tliey  can  take  us,"  said  Louisa. 

"And  who  can  say  that  we  are  safe  for  an  hour?"  asked  her  sister. 
"  Does  not  our  mother  say  that  we  are  all  in  great  danger  ?  And  does 
not  Catherine  say  they  are  hunting  all  through  the  land  for  such  as  we  ? 
And  are  we  not  obliged  to  hide  ourselves  from  day  to  day,  if  a  stranger 
comes  near  the  chateau  ?     Oh  !  if  our  father  were  here  !" 

"You  may  escape  the  hiding  and  hunting,  Henrietta,  if  you  please," 
said  Louisa,  coldly:  "you  have  only  to  go  to  the  nearest  priest  you 
know " 

"Louisa!"  exclaimed  the  younger  girl,  forgetful  of  the  danger  of 
which  she  had  just  spoken,  and  of  her  fears,  while  her  cheek  burned 
with  momentary  excitement  —  "  do  you  thiuk  me  so  cowardly  and  des- 
picable ?  Oh  !  how  you  must  despise  me  if  you  fancy  I  could,  to  save 
myself  from  sufl'ering,  or  even  from  death,  turn  from — " 

"Dear  Ileurietta,"  rejoined  her  sister,  throwing  her  arm  around  her, 
"  I  am  sure  you  would  not.  I  only  meant  to  put  a  little  Huguenot  spirit 
into  you;  and  I  have  done  it  too,"  she  added,  fondly.  "I  fancy  you 
would  not  mind,  at  this  momeut,  facing  a  whole  army  of  soldiers,  to  say 
nothing  of  priests  and  monks." 

"If  the  soldiers  come,"  said  the  elder  boy,  raising  himself  proudh', 
"I  will  not  let  them  touch  Ileurietta;  they  shall  kill  me  iirst." 

"Well  said,  Henry,"  replied  Louisa;  "with  such  a  companion  and 
protector,  we  will  not  be  afraid  of  the  soldiers ;  and  I  should  be  heartily 
glad;"  she  continued,  in  a  more  natural  tone,  "if  we  were  to  think  less 
about  them.  I  hate  this  whispering  under  breath,  and  this  creeping  into 
holes  and  corners  every  day.  I  do  not  see  why  we  should  be  afraid  of 
our  own  voices  and  shadows :  we  seem  Uke  those  who  flee  when  no  one 
pursues.     Only  say,  dear  Henrietta,  that  you  forgive  me,  and  then " 

The  younger  sister  had  disengaged  herself  from  Louisa's  embrace,  and 
was  bending  over  her  brother.  The  colour  had  not  left  her  brow,  and 
her  eyes  still  sparkled  with  animated  brilliance.  At  that  moment,  it 
might  have  been  hard  to  say  which  of  the  two  would  have  been  the 


A  X  D     I  X  S  T  R  r  C  T  I  0  X  .  241 

stronger  to  bear  and  to  sutt'cr.  The  mother  looked  ou  in  sadness.  She 
knew  more  fully  than  they,  how  imminent  were  the  perils  by  which  they 
were  surrounded.  That  day  she  had  received  intelligence  of  a  brutal 
massacre  of  fellow-Protestants,  who  had  been  lulled  into  false  security  by 
a  deceitful  and  treacherous  peace;  and  of  the  proscription  and  pursuit  of 
the  leaders  of  the  Huguenot  army.  Among  these  was  her  own  husband  ; 
and  it  might  be  that,  at  this  very  hour,  he  was,  like  those  of  whom  she 
had  just  been  reading,  "wandering  in  deserts  and  mountains,"  or  hiding 
"  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,"  even  if  he  had  until  then  escaped  the 
hands  of  his  persecutors  and  pursuers. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  cause  for  deep  and  wearing  anxiety.  Persecu- 
tion was  daily  waxing  more  fierce,  and  the  enemies  of  the  hated  Hugue- 
nots were  putting  into  execution  every  means  of  harassment  and  distress: 
resistance  had  enraged  them,  and  success  had  quickened  their  appetite 
for  revenge.  The  houses  and  estates  of  the  more  wealthy  among  the 
Protestants  held  out  strong  temptations  to  plunder,  to  the  more  depraved 
of  their  fellow-countrymen;  while  conscientious  Roman  Catholics  availed 
themselves  of  every  facility  which  the  laws  atibrded  for  the  conversion, 
either  by  force,  persuasion,  or  fraud,  of  those  whom  they  believed  to  be 
wanderers  from  the  true  fold  —  the  end,  according  to  some  at  least,  justi- 
fying the  means.  And  where  these  failed,  bonds  and  imprisonment, 
fines  and  confiscations,  often  death  itself,  awaited  those  among  the 
Huguenots  who  fell  into  tlie  power  of  their  opponents. 

The  family  to  which  we  have  introduced  our  readers  had  already 
sufi:ered  much,  ou  account  of  tlieir  firm  adherence  to  what  they  believed 
to  be  the  truth  of  the  gospel.  Alienation  from  former  friends  and 
kindred,  confiscation  and  worldly  ruin,  had  pressed  beavil}'  upon  tliem. 
Whether  it  be  in  any  case  justifiable  for  the  followers  of  our  Saviour  to 
take  up  arms  in  defence  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  and  in  self-defence 
against  oppression  and  violent  persecution,  we  need  not  discuss.  The 
Huguenots  had  thus  resisted ;  and  the  father  of  Louisa  and  Henrietta 
held,  as  we  have  said,  a  distinguished  position  in  the  Protestant  army, 
lli 


242  r  0  K  T  F  ij  L 1 0    OF    F  x  T  i;  i;  t  a  i  :c  Ji  e  .\  t 

Avhich  Lad  amoug  its  leaders  the  Prince  de  Conde  and  Admiral  Coligu\-. 
In  his  absence,  his  wife  and  children  were  exposed  to  perpetual  danger, 
in  the  old  chateau,  where  they  remained  secluded,  and  suffered  much 
privation,  iu  addition  to  frequent  alarms.  Of  all  their  former  servants, 
one  only  had  constancy  enough  to  remain  to  share  their  shattered  for- 
tunes ;  and  to  Catherine's  constant  activity  the}'  were  indebted  for  the 
few  daily  comforts  they  still  possessed,  and,  what  was  of  more  importance, 
for  the  earliest  intelligence  of  surrounding  movements. 

Notwithstanding  the  dangers  to  which  its  inhabitants  were  exposed, 
and  the  uncertainty  of  the  future,  the  chateau  had  become  an  asylum  to 
one  on  whom  the  storm  had  still  more  severely  fallen.  Kot  long  before 
the  day  of  which  we  write,  a  Huguenot  minister  had  been  cruelly  put  to 
death ;  and  his  daughter,  rescued  from  the  same  fate  by  the  bravery  of 
her  murdered  father's  friend,  had  been  received  into  his  family. 

It  is  not  to  be  greatly  wondered  at  that,  under  such  circumstances,  the 
mother's  eye  glanced  often  anxiously  around,  and  that  her  mind  sought 
vainly  for  consolation,  except  in  the  promises  of  her  God.  She  might 
even  be  pardoned  the  passionate  and  unconditional  praj-er  which  some- 
times rose  to  her  lips,  that  her  children  might  rather  be  taken  by  death 
from  the  evil  to  come,  than  to  be  called  to  endure  the  bitter  experiences 
Avhich  were  daily  falling  on  others.  But  her  piety  rebuked  the  wi.-h, 
and  her  faith  substituted  the  fervent  petition  that  the  day  of  fiery  trial,  if 
it  should  come,  might  find  them  prepared  by  divine  grace  and  assisted 
by  divine  power  "  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and,  having  done  all,  to 
stand." 

This  time  was  nearer  than  even  she,  probably,  had  feared. 

"  Only  saj-  that  you  forgive  me,  Ilenrietta,"  said  the  elder  sister ;  "  and 
then,  lot  the  trial  come  when  it  will,  we  shall  be  better  able  to  meet  it." 

The  sisters  clasped  hands  in  token  of  reconciliation,  if  this  were  needed ; 
but  the  spirit  of  the  younger  had  been  too  effectually  roused  to  sink 
down  instantly  into  its  former  quiescence. 


A  X  D    I  X  s  T  u  f  r  T  I  (I  X .  243 

"Yes,  lot  them  come,"  she  answered,  in  ecbo  to  her  sister's  words; 
"  let  them  come,  and " 

It  seemed  as  though  the  defiance  had  invoked  the  peril  most  to  be 
dreaded.  A  noise  was  beard  in  another  apartment;  and  the  hurried 
entrance  of  Catherine,  imploring  the  aroused  and  agitated  group  to  flee 
for  their  lives,  was  succeeded  by  that  of  an  armed  man,  who  slowly  ad- 
vanced towards  the  shrinking  females. 

"My  brother!  Louis!"  exclaimed  the  mother;  but  her  tones  were  faint 
and  wavering.  These  were  times  when,  as  we  have  intimated,  family 
ties  were  often  efltectually  severed  by  religious  diiierences ;  and  in  this 
instance,  the  Huguenot  lady  had  more  to  dread  than  to  hope  from  a 
brother  whom  she  knew  to  be  a  relentless  persecutor  of  her  faith. 

"Yes,  madam,  your  brother,"  replied  the  intruder:  "it  is  nothing 
wonderful,  surely,  tbat  a  brother  should  visit  a  sister:  it  is  long  since 
v:e  met." 

"Long,  Louis,  very  long;  would  God  the  time  were  come  when 
brother  and  sister  could  again  meet  in  love  !" 

"Enough  of  this,"  said  the  brother,  looking  round  on  the  small  and 
defenceless  part}-,  who,  gathering  round  her,  cast  doubtful  glances  at  the 
unexpected  visitor;  "I  trust  you  have  a  welcome  to  bestow  me." 

"  Surel}',  Louis ;  a  double  welcome  if  it  be  in  peace  that  you  are  bere," 
replied  the  sister. 

"  "Why  not  in  peace,  Margaret  ?  Do  you  suppose  I  make  war  on 
■women  ?  And  these  are  your  children  ?"  he  added  inquiringly,  taking 
the  younger  boy  in  his  arms;  "a  pity  that  so " 

"Brother,"  said  the  lady,  "let  us  forget  our  difliereuces  in  creed,  while 
you  share  in  such  hospitalities  as  the  exigencies  of  the  times  have  left  in 
luy  power  to  offer.  Will  it'  please  you  to  remove  your  travelling  dress, 
and  —  and  your  weapons,"  she  added,  after  a  momentary  hesitation. 

"It  may  not  be,"  replied  the  brother.  "Margaret,  my  mission  has 
reference  to  that  subject." 

"Alas  !  I  feared  so,"  she  said,  mournfully;  "speak  it  then,  Louis." 


244  r  0  i;  T  r  0  T.  I  0   of   e  x  t  k  r,  t  a  i  x  m  k  x  t 

"lam  come  to  ofler  joii  pardon,  IMargaret,  and  restoration  to  your 
property ;  protection  in  its  enjoyment,  and  advancement  for  your 
children." 

"  On  what  condition,  Louis  ?" 

"You  need  scarcely  ask  the  question,  my  sister,"  he  replied;  "you 
must  ahandou  your  heresy,  and  enter " 

"  ISTever !"  exclaimed  the  sister,  firmly.  "  0,  Louis,  let  me  rather 
entreat  you  to  return  to  the  faith  of  j'our  earliest  years.  Eememher  our 
sainted  mother,  and  the  lessons  of  her  life  and  lips ;  think  of  the  prayers 
she  taught  you,  and  the  word  on  which  she  rested  her  hope  of  eternal 
salvation  !"  And  as  she  spoke,  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes,  her  timidity 
vanished,  and  she  laid  one  hand  on  her  brother's  arm,  while  the  other 
rested  on  the  still  opened  volume  on  the  table. 

The  visitor  drew  back  from  the  touch,  and  placed  the  boy  on  the  floor, 
who  ran  sobbing  to  his  mother's  side.  "I  expected  as  much,"  said  the 
cavalier,  calml^',  "I  am  not  here,  Margaret,  to  argue  with  you,  but  to 
ofter  you  terms  of  submission.  If  you  refuse,  the  consequeuces  will  be 
of  3'our  own  choosing." 

"My  Saviour  will  help  me  to  bear  them,"  said  the  sister,  in  her  turn 
drawing  back.  But  the  transitory  tinge  left  her  cheek  as  she  spoke, 
and  her  daughters  pressed  nearer,  as  though  to  interpose  their  feeble  pro- 
tection. 

"  Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that,"  resumed  the  visitor,  sternly- :  "  Margaret, 
are  these  your  daughters  ?" 

"Mine,  Louis;  yes,  mine,"  said  the  mother;  and  then,  probably,  the 
threatened  consequences  of  which  her  brother  had  spoken  flashed  on  her 
mind,  for  she  would  have  hurried  her  daughters  from  the  room,  but  their 
uncle  stepped  between  them  and  the  door. 

"  It  is  right  then  that  we  should  be  better  acquainted,"  he  said.  "  Mar- 
garet, my  nieces  will  accompanj'  me  this  night.  Prepare  them  for  their 
journey;  and  bid  them  farewell." 

For  a  moment,  the  fortitude  of  the  mother  gave  wa}-  beneath  the 


AND     I  .V  S  T  R  U  C  T  I  0  X .  245 

stroke.  The  tliiug  was  come  upon  lier  which  she  Lad  for  some  time 
feared.  She  uttered  a  cry  of  agony  and  entreaty:  —  "Anything  hut 
that,  Louis  !  Anything  hut  that !" 

"We  pass  over  the  scene  of  poignant  distress  which  followed ;  the  hope- 
less resistance  of  the  victims ;  the  oppressor's  disregard  of  the  mother's 
prayers,  and  of  the  offer  of  the  orphan  guest  to  deliver  herself  up  to  the 
rage  of  her  murdered  father's  enemies  and  hers,  as  a  suhstitute  for  the 
daughters  of  her  protector;  and  his  refusal  to  reveal  his  ultimate  inten- 
tions with  regard  to  them.  He  had  attendants  and  horses  without;  and 
in  one  short  hour  from  the  time  of  his  secret  intrusion  into  the  chateau, 
the  sound  of  his  horse's  feet  was  dying  away  in  the  distance,  and  within 
was  heard  —  to  use  the  expressive  language  of  Scripture — "lamentation 
and  bitter  weeping :  the  mother  refusing  to  be  comforted  for  her  children, 
because  they  were  not."  Such  were  the  scenes  but  too  often  witnessed 
in  Protestant  families.  Oh  !  what  tongue  can  tell  the  privileges  which 
our  country  enjoys,  in  being  free  from  such  sources  of  woe  ! 

It  is  one  of  the  blessed  effects  of  adversity  that  it  draws  the  children 
of  God  nearer  to  their  heavenly  Father,  and  causes  them  to  have  re- 
course, with  more  anxious  solicitude  and  fervency,  both  to  the  throne  and 
the  word  of  grace ;  and  it  is  equally  true  that  seasons  of  fiery  trial,  while 
they  test  the  sincerity  of  faith  and  hope,  are  remarkable  for  the  courage 
anil  fortitude  with  which  the  naturally  timid  and  weak  have  been  en- 
dued, to  meet  every  otherwise  overwhelming  emergencj-. 

It  was  thus  with  the  nobly-born  and  delicately-nurtured  Iluguenot 
mother  whom  we  have  introduced  to  our  readers.  Persecution  had,  at 
length,  touched  her  at  the  tenderest  point.  Her  daughters  had  been 
violently  and  cruelly  removed  from  her  sight  and  p)rotection — perhaps 
never  to  be  restored.  Her  brother's  object  in  their  forcible  abduction 
was  avowedly  to  detach  them  from  the  influence  of  what  he  deemed  to 
b;>  a  false  heretical  religion  ;  and  she  too  well  knew  that  no  scruples  of 
tenderness  and  affection  would  interpose  between  them  and  any  amount 
of  suffering,  so  that  that  object  was  attained.     Thev  would  be  thrust 


240  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  X  T  E  U  T  A  I  N  jr  E  N  T 

probably  iuto  a  conveut;  and  recourse  would  be  bad,  in  turns,  to  bland- 
isbments  and  tbreats,  indulgences  and  privations,  to  entice  or  compel 
tbem  to  renounce  tbeir  Protestant  faitb.  All  tbis  was  terrible ;  but,  on 
tbe  otber  band,  tbe  motber  believed  tbat  ber  God,  wbom  sbe  served,  was 
able  to  deliver,  not  only  berself,  but  bers,  from  tbe  malice  of  tbeir 
enemies. 

It  may  be,  also,  tbat  sbe  did  not  despair  of  some  manifest  interposi- 
tion of  Divine  Providence  on  bebalf  of  her  cbildren.  She  could  call  to 
mind  instances  in  wbich  extraordinary  and  unfoi'eseen  events  bad,  during 
tbe  present  calamities,  baffled  tbe  scbemes  of  tbe  enemies  of  tbe  perse- 
cuted ;  and  turning  to  tbe  divine  records  for  support  and  encouragement, 
slie  would  at  least  be  reminded  of  One  wbo  is  "a  very  present  belp  in 
trouble;"  while  there  were  promises  which,  though  not  engaging  tem- 
poral protection  and  deliverance,  might  quicken  ber  faitb  and  enliven 
ber  hope  that  even  this  was  not  too  bard  for  tbe  Lord.  Thus  when  she 
read,  in  immediate  connection  with  the  sublime  and  pathetic  passage 
which  represents,  in  prophetic  language,  tbe  lamentation  and  bitter 
weeping  of  a  bereaved  mother,  tbe  inspiriting  encouragement :  "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord,  Eefi-ain  thy  voice  from  weeping,  and  thine  ejca  from 
tears ;  for  thy  work  shall  be  rewarded,  saith  the  Lord :  and  they  shall 
come  again  from  the  land  of  tbe  enemy.  And  tbei-e  is  hope  in  thine 
end,  saith  the  Lord,  that  thy  children  shall  come  again  to  their  own 
border"  —  the  Huguenot  mother  might,  without  incurring  the  charge 
of  presumption,  venture  to  apply  the  language  to  her  own  case,  and  to 
the  spiritual,  if  not  the  temporal  condition  of  her  captive  daughters. 
Or  when,  turning  to  the  exalted  and  inspired  strains  of  another  of  Is- 
rael's prophets,  she  again  read:  "Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Fear  not;  for  I 
have  redeemed  thee :  I  have  called  thee  by  thy  name ;  thou  art  mine. 
When  thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee  ;  and  through 
the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee :  when  thou  walkest  through  tbe 
fire,  thou  sbalt  not  be  burned  ;  neither  shall  tbe  flame  kindle  upon  thee" 
—  she  might  justly  believe  tbat  promises  so  exceedingl}- great  and  pre- 


A  X  D     INST  R  U  C  T  I  0  N  .  247 

cious  wore  tbo  lieritag'c  of  all  believers;  and  if  not  literally  fulfilled, 
would  assuredly  meet  with  a  glorious  accomplisbmcnt  iu  the  grace  and 
strength  imparted  to  all  faithful  servants  of  the  great  Master. 

Leaving  her,  then,  to  such  consolation  as  she  might  he  permitted  to 
draw  from  the  Scriptures,  which  she  loved,  and  from  her  knowledge  of 
God,  in  whom  she  trusted,  we  turn  to  another  scene. 

In  the  depths  of  a  forest,  several  miles  from  the  chateau  of  which  we 
have  spoken,  a  feeble  band  of  fugitives  were  snatcliing  a  short  space  at 
mid-day  for  rest  and  repose.  Horses,  not  divested  of  their  trapjiings, 
were  grazing  around,  secured  from  straying,  and  their  riders  were  at 
hand,  ready  at  any  moment  of  alarm  to  remount  and  continue  their 
tliglit.  Among  the  fugitives  were  many  women  and  cliildren,  though 
now  sharing  in  the  fatigue  of  a  forced  march  with  the  meanest  and 
hardiest  soldier  in  their  small  escort.  For  some  amongst  them,  the 
weakest  and  feeblest,  litters  had  been  provided,  while  the  stronger  had 
followed  on  foot. 

Shaded  by  an  overspreading  tree,  the  more  distinguished  of  the  party 
were  gathered,  some  standing,  some  seated  in  consultation,  and  messen- 
gers or  scouts  were  frequently  disappearing  and  returning  with  intelli- 
gence. In  this  group  might  have  been  seen  a  delicate  female,  whose 
evident  weakness  demanded  the  quiet  and  seclusion  of  home,  and  ^^-hose 
bearing  indicated  high  rank  and  station.  She  was  of  noble  birth  ;  her 
husband,  now  Ijy  her  side,  was  a  prince  of  France;  her  children  — 
sharers  in  her  flight  —  were  entitled  to  worldh-  distinction  and  royal 
favour.  Standing  over  these,  with  a  child  in  his  arms  —  his  j-oungest 
motherless  one  —  was  a  man  past  middle  age,  of  distinguished  bearing, 
wise  in  council,  brave  in  fight,  steady  in  his  adherence  to  the  cause  he 
had  espoused,  and  to  whom  a  peculiar  interest  has  since  attached,  as  one 
of  the  victims  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  a  few  years  only- 
after  the  date  of  our  narrative.  Seated  near  was  a  lad}-,  the  wife  of  a 
general  in  the  Huguenot  armj-,  and  her  infant  child,  now  endeavouring 
to  esca[ie  fi'om  her  husband's  enemies  and  her  own. 

The  intelligence  brought  to  the  leaders  of  the  party  was  evidently  per- 


248  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  N  T  F  ];  T  A  I  X  M  E  X  T 

plexing.  Their  enemies  were  in  full  pursuit;  the  country  around  was 
already  swarming  with  hostile  trooi^s ;  the  hridges  and  fords  of  the  Loire 
were  guarded  to  intercept  the  passage  of  the  fugitives ;  and  a  few  hours 
M'ould  prohahh-  witness  their  capture.  One  circumstance  only  appeared 
to  favour  a  hope  of  present  escape  :  the  party  had  Ijeen  conducted  by  one 
of  their  number,  who,  well  acquainted  with  the  bj'-roads  of  the  district, 
had  hitherto  succeeded  in  baffling  pursuit,  and  who  yet  held  out  hope 
of  crossing  the  Loire  unseen  and  unsuspected.  To  render  his  plan  of 
escape  available,  however,  a  halt  of  some  hours  was  necessary;  and  leav- 
ing the  leaders  of  the  fugitive  band  to  take  such  precautions  against 
Budden  surprise  as  the  nature  of  their  present  concealment  admitted,  we 
return  to  the  chateau. 

Another  evening  had  fallen,  and  the  diminished  family  was  once  more 
assembled  in  the  apartment  which  had  so  lately  witnessed  the  scene  of 
violence  we  have  described,  when  a  faint  tapping,  repeated  at  intervals, 
aroused  the  watchful  attention  of  Catherine,  who  joyfully  declaring  that 
it  was  her  master's  signal,  sprang  from  the  room  to  give  him  admittance. 

"My  husband  !"  exclaimed  the  Huguenot  lady,  hastily  following  her 
servant,  and  returning  shortly  afterwards  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the 
cavalier  who  had  acted  as  guide  to  the  fugitives. 

"You  are  returned  to  a  desolate  home,  dearest  husband." 

"I  know  it  all,  Margaret,"  he  replied,  in  tones  in  which  manly  forti- 
tude struggled  with  grief,  and  both  with  military  sternness  and  decision. 
"I  learned  only  this  afternoon  the  unhappiness  which  has  befallen  us. 
May  God  give  you  patience  to  bear,  dear  wife,  and  me  power  to  avenge." 

"  Dearest  Henry,  you  forget  who  has  said,  'Vengeance  is  mine.'  But 
is  there  no  means  of  rescue  ?" 

"  Not  now ;  the  time  will  come,  never  fear  it ;  and  till  then  j-our  brother 
will  not  dare  to  harm  the  girls.     But  now,  Margaret,  you  must  leave  the' 
chateau;  there  is  no  safety  here." 

"Alas,  Henr}'!  and  where  is  safety  now?" 

The  husband  shook  his  head  sadl}-.  "Comparative  and  temporary 
safety  may  be  found  elsewliere ;  here  is  extreme  danger.     Listen,  Marga- 


A  X  D   I  X  i  T  n  r  (•  T  I  0  X .  240 

ret!  our  prince  and  Coligti  y  liave  been  cornj)elIe(l  to  seek  safety  iu  tliglit; 
the  princess  and  her  children  —  the  ladies  other  small  court  —  Coligny's 
children — Andelot's  wife  and  her  children,  one  an  infant  at  the  breast, 
you  know  —  all  accompany  them;  there  is  no  securitj'  for  one  of  our 
families  on  this  side  the  Loire ;  should  we  succeed  in  passing  over,  we 
may  reach  Rochelle  in  safety;  I  have  guided  them  thus  far,  aiid  have 
undertaken  to  conduct  them  to  the  ford  of  Sancerre.  I  pray  God  wo 
may  reach  it;  but  troops  are  in  close  pursuit,  and  every  road  is  beset 
with  danger.     There  is  no  time  to  lose ;  to-morrow  will  be  too  late." 

"  Why  then,  Henry,  have  you  left  our  friends  ?  It  will  be  a  happiness 
too  dearly  purchased  to  have  bartered  this  short  interview  for  their  safety." 

"  They  are  now  on  the  road,  Margaret ;  I  am  to  meet  them  a  few  miles 
hence.  I  have  brought  two  spare  horses,  and  wait  only  for  you  and 
ours  to  prepare  for  the  journej-.  Our  dear  j'oung  friend,  our  poor  boys, 
and  Catherine;  all  must  leave  the  chateau." 

"  Ilenrj- !  and  our  daughters  in  the  hands  of  our  bitterest  foes  ?" 

"There  is  no  remedy,  Margaret,"  said  the  Huguenot  soldier,  "a  few 
hours  hence,  and  you  also  would  be  in  their  hands ;  you  must  flee." 

"But,  Henry,  should  our  girls  escape  and  return  to  the  chateau? 
Dear  husband,  take  the  hoy?,  and  Catherine,  and  our  friend,  and  permit 
me  to  remain.  Our  hiding-place  in  the  forest  may  be  undiscovered,  and 
God  may  direct  our  children  thither." 

"  It  may  not  be,  Margaret ;  I  would  not,  for  all  France,  leave  you  to 
the  fearful  risk  of  remaining  behind.  The  king  has  sworn  our  ruin,  and 
you  well  know  what  that  implies ;  the  calamity  which  has  already  be- 
fallen us  is  but  a  foretaste  of  what  will  follow  if  you  fall  into  his  power. 
Margaret,  you  must  escape  while  you  may." 

"Dearest  husband,  I  cannot;  will  not  God  protect  his  own?  Surely 
he  will  help  ns." 

"He  will  help  us,  Margaret.  He  helps  us  now,  by  pointing  out  a  way 
of  safety  by  human  means.  If  we  neglect  this,  why  should  we  expect  a 
miracle  on  our  behalf" 

"  Monsieur  is  right,"  interposed  Catherine,  coming  forward.    "  Madame 


250  p  0  R  T  r o  1. 1  0    OF    i:  .\  t  i:  i;  t  a  i  a  ji  e  n  t 

must  go,  but  it  needs  not  tliat  Catherine  sliould  accompany  her.  Pcr- 
mit  me  to  stay  behind,  dear  madame  ;  the  storm  tliat  lays  the  forest  tree 
low,  may  spare  the  wood  which  has  sprung  up  beneath  its  shade.  I  shall 
be  safer  bore  than  madame,  and  will  remain  in  my  father's  cottage,  and 
if  God  should  send  back  our  lost  ones " 

"There  is  wisdom  in  your  plan,  Catherine,  if  you  will  dare  venture. 
I  had  thought  of  this,  but  would  not  seem  so  selfish  as  to  propose  it," 
said  the  husband.  "Margaret,"  he  added,  "time  hastens,  we  should  ere 
now  have  been  mounted  ;  our  boys " 

Half  an  hour  later,  and  the  chateau  was  deserted;  and  in  the  gloom  of 
approaching  night,  a  slight  female  form  might  have  been  dimly  dis- 
cerned, stealing  cautiously  into  a  neighbouring  forest,  till  she  halted  at 
the  hut  of  a  charcoal  burner;  and  then  miglit  have  been  heard  by  a 
curious  listener,  first  a  hurried  conversation,  and  tlieu  the  low  deep  voice 
of  a  man  in  earnest  supplication  that  God  in  his  own  good  time  would 
arise  to  scatter  tlie  enemies  of  his  truth,  and  turn  again  the  captivity  of 
his  people.  Moanwile,  the  hurried  tramp  of  horses  through  the  distant 
glades  of  the  same  forest,  breaking  through  tlie  stillness  of  niglit,  an- 
nounced that  the  fugitives  had  proceeded  thus  far  unmolested. 

The  sun  rose  brightly,  and  the  waters  of  the  Loire  glided  peacefully 
along,  shrunken  and  diminished  in  volume  by  a  long  continued  summer 
drought.  Tlie  scene  was  at  once  lovely  and  lonelj-.  In  some  spots  woods 
approached  the  banks  of  the  river,  on  either  side,  casting  deep  shado\\s 
on  the  intervening  waves;  in  others,  a  broad  expanse  of  cultivated  plains 
threw  open  the  same  waves,  as  they  rolled  onwards,  to  the  calm  sun- 
shine.    On  the  southern  side,  the  towers  of  Sancerre  were  visible. 

Some  time  later  a  new  feature  was  added  to  the  scene.  Emerging 
from  a  dark  forest  on  the  northern  banks,  a  band  of  travellers  were 
descried,  hastening  onwards.  Men,  women,  and  children  were  there, 
way-worn  and  travel-stained.  At  first  sight  of  the  gently  flowing  river, 
a  glad  shout  of  thankfulness  was  raised,  which  swelled  at  length  into  a 
hymn  of  praise;  and  then  the  weary  fugitives,  whom  we  have  already 
described,  increased  in  number  by  the  family  of  the  chateau,  and  others 


A  X  I)    I  X  ?■  T  i:  r  r  T  I  0  \ .  2.'! 

who  during-  the  iiiglit  march  Iiml  jniiieil  tliem,  qnirkly  passed  over  tlio 
iutervening  ground.  Eat  little  time  eonld  ho  spared  for  deliberation. 
The  ford  was  reached,  and  it  rniglit  he  tliat  tlieir  enemies,  deceived  by 
the  rapidity  and  secrecy  of  their  flight,  would,  for  a  few  hours,  he  thrown 
out  in  their  pursuit.     But  safety  was  not  3-et  attained. 

Pressing  forward,  then,  preceded  by  their  guide,  the  devoted  band 
entered  the  river  —  the  princel}' leader  bearing  his  infant  child  in  his 
arms,  and,  with  liis  compatriot,  encouraging  the  faint  tind  feeble  to  follow. 

The  ford  was  passed,  and  the  fugitives  had  gained  .secure  footing  on 
the  southern  bank,  when  suddenly  dark  and  threatening  clouds  obscured 
the  sky,  and  a  storm  rapidly  gathered,  accompanied  by  rain  so  violent 
that  the  current  of  the  river  was  almost  instantaneously  swollen  from  a 
gentle  stream,  which,  at  the  ford,  scarcely'  rose  above  the  horse's  knees, 
to  a  deep,  impetuous,  and  impassable  torrent ;  while,  croucliing  beneath 
the  fury  of  the  storm,  on  a  near  eminence,  the  fugitives  silently  adored 
the  good  providence  of  God  which  had  thus  far  preserved  and  guided  them. 

But  a  new  cause  for  gratitude  was  manifest  when,  on  casting  their 
eyes  across  the  river,  at  the  ceasing  of  the  storm,  a  large  body  of  horse- 
men were  seen  galloping  along  the  banks  they  had  so  recently  quitted ; 
and,  after  seeking  in  vain  for  a  safe  passage  across  the  flood,  retiring  in 
mad  rage  that  the  intended  captives,  whom  they  had  closely  followed 
through  the  night,  and  whom  they  had  looked  upon  as  already  delivered 
into  their  hands,  were  thus,  by  the  marvellous  interposition  of  a  divine 
and  overruling  power,  assisted  in  escaping  from  their  fury. 

"This  is  wonderful !"  exclaimed  a  voice  from  among  the  fugitives: 
"  this  the  Lord's  doing,  it  is  marvellou's  in  our  eyes."  And  then,  per- 
chance, a  solemn  song  of  devout  thanksgiving  and  praise  might  have 
been  heard,  as  they  slowly  withdrew  from  the  scene  of  their  enemies' 
discomfiture :  — 

"  If  it  had   not  hcon  the  Lord  who  was  on  our  side, 
Now  may   Israel   say  ; 
If  it  had  not  been  the  Lord  who  was  on  our  side, 


2o2  PORTFOLIO     OF     E  X  T  E  K  T  A  I  N  .M  E  N  T 

When  men  ro?c  up  against  us; 

Then  they  had  swallowed  us  up  quick, 

When  their  wraih  was  kindled  against  us; 

Then  the  waters  had  overwhelmed  us, 

The  stream  had  gone  over  our  soul; 

Then  the  proud  waters  had  gone  over  our  soul. 

"  Blessed  be  the  Lord, 
Who  hath  not  given  us  a  prey  to  their  teeth, 
Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of   the  snare  of  the  fowlers ; 
The  snare  is  broken,  and  we  are  escaped. 
Our  help  is  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
Who  made  heaven  and  earth." 

"Dear  husband,"  said  Margaret,  as  they  pressed  forward  among  their 
friends,  "  we  shall  yet  see  our  children  in  peace.  God  will  not  desert 
them." 

The  confidence  of  the  Huguenot  mother  in  the  tender  care  of  her 
Heavenly  Father,  as  expressed  above,  was  not  misplaced.  The  distressed 
parents,  in  company  with  the  fugitive  band  so  marvellously  rescued  from 
impending  peril,  after  a  series  of  dangers  and  escapes,  reached  the  city 
of  Rochelle,  where  they  found  themselves  surrounded  by  friends.  Here, 
after  a  time,  they  were  rejoined  by  their  missing  daughters.  From  the 
relation  which  they  gave  of  their  adventures  since  their  forcible  sejiara- 
tion,  it  appeared  that  the^'  had  been  conve^'ed  to  a  convent,  where  every 
effort  was  made  to  undermine  their  faith,  and  to  detach  them  from  their 
religious  associations ;  but,  happily,  without  success.  Frustrated  in  these 
endeavours,  resort  was  had  to  the  terrors  with  which  the  Eomish  system 
arms  its  emissaries :  these  appliances,  however,  equally'  failed  of  their 
intended  purpose.  "While  suffering  the  rigours  of  persecution,  an  oppor- 
tunity was  providential!}'  offered  for  their  escape,  of  which  they  gladly 
availed  themselves,  and  after  a  succession  of  alarms,  privations,  and  hair- 
breadth escapes,  they  were  enabled  to  reach  the  same  a.sylum  which  liaJ 


A  \  D     I  X  .?  T  R  r  C  T  I  0  X  .  '2.I-, 

tor  some  time  sheltered  their  anxious  parents.  Here,  once  more  restored 
to  the  bosom  of  their  family,  we  leave  them  in  possession  of  a  joy  which 
may  be  better  imagined  than  described. 

We  may  remark,  in  conclusion,  that  the  striking  incidents  which  we 
have  endeavoured  to  illustrate,  are  but  a  specimen  of  the  domestic  sepa- 
rations, the  family-  anguish,  and  the  individual  suffering  cndnred  by 
thousands  of  faithful  witnesses  ffir  God  at  the  period  of  frightful  persecu- 
tion under  notice.  But  times  of  extraordinary  trial  are  generally  marked 
l»y  unusual  manifestations  of  the  divine  care  and  loving  kindness ;  and 
interpositions  like  that  of  the  sudden  storm  and  the  swollen  river,  by 
which  God's  friends  were  succoured  and  his  enemies  baffled,  were  not 
of  infrequent  occurrence;  thus  teaching  his  people  that  they  shall  not 
trust  in  him  in  vain. 


^luciiotcs  at  gr.  |uitsfln. 


BY    MKS.   E.  C.  JUDSON. 


T  was  often  remarked  by  Dr.  .Judson,  that  the  religion 
lfA»"T:r\  of  the  Romanists  could  not  prevail  very  extensively  in 
Burmah,  as  it  is  unsuited  —  at  least  as  presented  by 
the  Portuguese  and  Italian  priests  —  to  the  character  of 
^'^gas*^^— -  their  minds.  It  is  seldom  that  a  pure  Burman  enters 
'^^)\  ^  their  church,  which  consists  almost  exclusively  of  Portu- 
guese half-castes.  That  is  the  reason,  also,  why  they  remain  with  safety 
under  the  Burmese  government  —  proselytism  being  the  only  thing  in 
foreign  religions  to  which  the  Buddhists  object.  In  illustration  of  the 
common  misapprehension  of  Burmese  character  by  Romish  priests,  he 
one  day  related  an  anecdote.  In  the  early  days  of  the  mission,  two  of 
his  native  assistants  came  to  inrpiire  if  it  would  lie  wrong  for  them  to 
visit  the  Roman  Catliolic  priest,  and  learn  something  of  his  doctrines. 


254  PORTFOLIO  OF  EXTEKTAIXMEXT 

After  ascertaining  that  their  object  was  not  to  annoy,  but  reallj'  to  seek 
information,  he  assured  them  that  it  would  be  quite  right  to  go,  and  that 
he  had  not  the  slightest  objection.  The  next  time  he  met  them,  they 
declared,  with  some  degree  of  mortification,  that  they  had  never  been 
treated  so  like  silly  children  in  all  their  lives.  The  priest  had  received 
them  very  kindly,  calling  them  his  children,  and  was  overjoyed  to  learn 
that  they  wished  to  know  something  of  his  religion.  He  then  retired 
into  an  inner  room,  and  soon  came  out,  with  one  hand  hidden  under  his 
robe,  and  very  softly  and  smilingly  inquired,  "What  think  you,  my  dear 
children,  I  have  here  ?"  at  the  same  time  assuring  them  it  was  sometliing 
"very  precious,"  "more  precious  than  gold,"  something  he  would  not 
part  with  for  his  life,  etc.  After  a  while  he  cautiously  gave  a  slight  peep, 
then  a  little  more,  and  a  little  more,  till  finally  the  whole  of  some  saintly 
relic,  of  which  his  visitors  could  not  have  the  slightest  appreciation,  was 
held  up  before  their  eyes.  The  Burmans  owned  that,  uncivil  as  it  might 
appear,  they  remained  silent,  uncertain  whether  it  was  not  the  object  of 
the  priest  to  insult  them.  Presently  he  discovered  that  something  was 
wrong,  and  returned  to  his  room.  When  he  again  appeared,  he  was 
robed  anew,  and  with  the  same  soft,  insinuating  smile,  he  inquired, 
"Noiv,  my  dear  children,  what  do  you  think  I  have  brought  you  ?"  The 
men  shook  their  heads.  "  Oh,  no,"  he  continued,  "you  need  not  trj'  to 
guess,  you  never  could  guess :  it  is  one  of  the  loveliest,  the  most  beauti- 
ful things  in  the  universe."  Gradually,  little  by  little,  his  robe  was  again 
opened,  and  the  wonder  permitted  to  peep  forth,  though  still  concealed 
by  his  hand,  while  he  whetted  curiosity  by  lavishing  upon  it  the  most 
extravagant  praises.  At  last  the  treasure  was  fully  exposed,  and  proved 
to  be  a  small  statuette  of  her  whom  the  priest  assured  them  was  "the 
mother  of  God."  The  newly-converted  Christians  were  shocked,  and 
still  more  so  at  being  called  on  to  shoko  to  this  doll,  as  they  called  it. 
They  went  from  the  priest's  dwelling  with  the  conclusion  on  their  minds, 
that  if  they  were  ever  left  to  the  sin  of  idolatry,  their  own  Gaudama, 
with  the  godship  wrought  out  by  his  own  persevering  self-discipline,  was 
a  more  dignified  object  of  worship  than  this  Jewish  woman.     And  they 


A  X  D     I  N  S  T  II  r  C  T  I  0  .\  .  J.jD 

nsud  iiftorwards  to  allude,  not  intVeqticntly,  to  the  time  tliCN*  went  to 
inquire  after  grave  matters  of  religion,  and  were  amused  by  ebildreu's 
playthings. 

A  native  Christian  woman  told  me  that  she  was  at  one  time  about  to 
engage  in  something  which  Dr.  Judson  considered  not  conducive  to  her 
spiritual  good.  lie  sent  for  her,  and  remonstrated ;  but  she  would  not 
give  up  lier  darling  project.  "Look  here  !"  said  he,  eagerly  snatching  a 
ruler  from  the  table,  and  tracing  a  not  very  straight  line  on  the  floor; 
"  here  is  where  you  liave  been  walking.  You  have  made  a  crooked 
track,  to  be  sure  —  out  of  the  patli  half  of  the  time ;  but  then  you  have 
kept  near  it,  and  not  taken  to  new  roads,  and  you  have  —  not  so  muclr 
as  you  might  have  done,  mind,  but  still  to  a  certain  extent  —  grown  in 
grace;  and  now,  with  all  this  growth  upon  your  heart  and  head,  in  the 
maturity  of  your  3'cars,  with  ripened  understanding  and  an  every-daj' 
deepening  sense  of  the  goodness  of  God,  here,"  bringing  down  the  ruler 
with  emphasis  to  indicate  a  certain  position,  "  liere  you  stand.  You  know 
where  this  path  leads.  You  know  what  is  before  you  —  some  struggles, 
some  sorrows,  and  finally  eternal  life  and  a  crown  of  glory.  But  to  tiie 
left  branches  otf  another  very  pleasant  road,  and  along  tlie  air  floats, 
rather  temptingly,  a  pretty  bubble.  You  do  not  mean  to  leave  the  path 
you  have  \valked  in  fifteen  years  —  fifteen  long  years  —  altogether;  you 
only  want  to  step  aside  and  catch  the  bubble,  and  think  you  will  come 
buck  again  :  hwt  you  never  will.  Woman,  think  !  Dare  you  deliberately 
leave  this  strait  and  narrow  path,  drawn  by  the  Saviour's  finger,  and  go 
away  for  one  moment  into  that  of  your  enemy  ?     "Will  you  ?  ivill  you  ? 

WILL  YOU  ?" 

"  I  was  sobbing  so,"  said  the  woman,  "  that  I  could  not  speak  a  word; 
but  he  knew,  as  he  always  did,  what  I  meant ;  for  he  knelt  down,  and 
prayed  that  God  would  preserve  me  in  my  determination.  I  have  made 
a  great  many  crooked  tracks  since,"  she  added,  tearfully  ;  "  but^  when- 
ever I  am  unusually  tempted,  I  see  the  teacher  as  he  looked  that  da^-, 
bending  over  in  his  chair,  the  ruler  placed  on  the  floor  to  represent  me, 
bis  finger  pointing  along  the  path  of  eternal   life,  his  eye  looking  so 


2oG  PORTFOLIO     OF     EMEU  T  A  I  .\  Jl  E  X  T  . 

strangely  over  his  sLouluer,  and  that  terrible  '  Will  you?'  coming  from 
his  lips  as  though  it  was  the  voice  of  God  ;  and  I  pray  just  as  Peter  did, 
for  I  am  frightened." 

One  of  the  native  assistants,  speaking  of  Dr.  Judson's  knowledge  of 
Burmese  character,  said  that  it  was  particularly  impossible  to  conceal  a 
sin  from  him;  and,  while  a  culprit  was  exulting  in  fancied  security,  he 
would  suddenly  find  an  eye  fixed  upon  him  that  was  perfectly  irresistible, 
and  would  be  obliged,  in  spite  of  himself,  to  go  to  the  teacher  and  con- 
fess. He  also  said  that  Dr.  Judson  never  accused  except  upon  an  abso- 
lute certainty,  nevei-  insinuated  a  suspicion,  and  never  placed  any  reli- 
ance on  a  mere  hearsay.  He  always  interrupted  any  communication  of 
one  Christian  against  another,  with  "Have  you  told  him  his  fault  be- 
tween 3-ou  and  him  alone?"  Most  likely  this  had  not  been  done;  and 
the  informer  would  always  have  some  good  reason  for  not  taking  up  the 
matter  himself,  but  he  "  thought  the  teacher  ought  to  know,"  etc.  Prob- 
ably hints  like  these,  never  openly  acted  on,  gave  the  peculiar  expres- 
sion to  the  eye  which  the  Burnian  considered  so  very  remarkable.  "He 
knew  us,"  the  man  continued,  "through  and  through,  much  better  than 
we  knew  ourselves.  If  we  had  done  anything  amiss,  he  called  us  plea- 
santly, talked  so"  —  taking  up,  by  way  of  illustration,  a  toy  that  lay 
upon  the  floor  beside  him,  and  passing  his  finger  gently  around  the  rim 
—  "  talked,  and  talked,  and  talked,  till  suddenly,  before  we  knew  it,  he 
pounced  upon  us  there,"  striking  his  finger  violently  on  the  centre  of 
the  toy,  "  and  held  us  breathless  till  we  had  told  him  everything.  Ah, 
no  one  will  ever  know  us  poor  Burmans  so  again  !"  added  the  old  man, 
mournfully. 

I  recollect  one  day  showing  my  husband  two  different  newspaper 
articles,  in  one  of  which  he  was  compared  to  the  apostle  Paul,  and  iu 
the  other  spoken  of  as  the  "beloved  John."  Instead  of  being  amused, 
as  I  had  expected,  at  the  contradiction,  he  exclaimed,  with  a  sorrowful- 
ness which  made  me  regret  having  called  his  attention  to  the  subject, 
"  Oh,  how  little  —  how  little  do  they  know  me  !  '"Who  shall  deliver  me 
from  the  body  of  this  death  V  " 


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